Into the Unknown Regions
by PierceTheVeils
Summary: The civil war is over. Against all odds, the Galactic Empire's hold on the known galaxy is but a recent memory, and a New Republic is on the rise. Very few remain loyal to the Empire, and those who do have been sent fleeing into the Unknown Regions, where they hope to heal from a stinging defeat and eventually return, stronger than they were before.
1. Slimming Odds

**_Opening Crawl:_**

 ** _The civil war is over. Against all odds, the Galactic Empire's hold on the known galaxy is but a recent memory, and a New Republic is on the rise. Very few remain loyal to the Empire, and those who do have been sent fleeing into the Unknown Regions, where they hope to heal from a stinging defeat._**

 ** _But the Unknown Regions are a dangerous place, and previous efforts to colonize the area have been failures for reasons unknown to the Imperials who remain. Even getting to their rendezvous point, the Eclipse, has proven a challenge too great for many a fleeing survivor, as hyperspace routes remain a relatively uncharted gamble._**

 ** _As Grand Admiral Rae Sloane and her crew approach the ship, they begin to shore up the limited resources they have when Sloane receives a disturbing report…_**

Chapter One

Slimming Odds

"Half our forces? Half of the Imperials sent to this point were lost in transit?" Rae Sloane shook her head, trying to keep the fury out of her voice. "How is this possible?"

"Different ships were lost to different causes, Grand Admiral. Some were captured by the New Republic, and went down fighting valiantly. Some plotted their hyperspace jumps incorrectly, and crashed into asteroids, planets, or stars. And still others…" the droid giving the report paused, searching its memory reserves. "Still others have been lost to causes unknown, but cannot be expected to make it onto this ship. We have waited too long for them already. I fear worse fates have befallen them."

Sloane took out her blaster and shot, sending the droid scorched and scampering. She may be angry, but she preferred rage to fear. She didn't want to accept the droid's report to be true.

The admiral, alongside Hux and his orphans, had arrived aboard the Imperial Star Destroyer Dreadnought Eclipse roughly fifteen standard cycles ago. Though all ships that had received the transmission were expected to arrive within three cycles of each other, only the Imperialis and five others had. The total number of beings on the Eclipse numbered slightly less than a thousand, not including droids and including what was left of the original crew.

Of those who remained, Sloane quickly discovered that she outranked all of them, and had worked to establish her authority in the quickest way possible. Her success didn't make her nearly as happy as it should have. A third of the people weren't even soldiers, and some didn't know what they were doing here. What was the point of being in command if all one rules is a sandpile? Sloane had hoped more would show with the coming cycles, and had ordered everyone to give them as much time as they could possibly spare. But now, that time was running out.

The food provisions on the Eclipse were far greater than they had been on the Imperialis, especially nearing the end of their journey, but even they were not infinite. Nor were their fuel reserves, for that matter. The location of the rendezvous point had been chosen for its relative accessibility into the Unknown Regions from the rest of the galaxy, not necessarily for its proximity to vital resources. If the ship remained stationary for much longer, they would not have what they needed to make it to their intended destination.

It was time to make a choice. Four of the six ships, Sloane knew, had no way of making it. Their end was known. But even still: two ships remained unaccounted for. Two ships with a confirmed crew of at least a hundred each. With numbers so small, every person mattered.

But how long could she be expected to wait for them? Was she truly waiting for the final stragglers to arrive, or was there something more? Something deeper to her motivations?

When they left, Sloane knew, there would be no going back. Either the Empire was reborn in this motley crew, or they would never have the power needed to retake their homelands. The systems that were rightfully theirs. And despite millenia upon millenia of recorded history, knowledge of the Unknown Regions remained scarce at best. In part because it was hard to get to, but also because of the few who entered, even fewer were known to have come back.

And then there were those who had come from the Unknown Regions, such as Grand Admiral Thrawn. For all Sloane had heard of the once great grand admiral, his origins were seen as a dirty secret due to his species. So naturally, she knew very little about them. Only that he was of a species he called Chiss, and that his home planet was called Csilla, located on the border to the Unknown Regions. It was thanks to him the Empire knew anything at all about navigating the dangerous sector of space.

It would have been useful to have Thrawn here, Sloane thought. He knew more about what they were about to face than anyone in the Empire had. And his language… it had begun the process of being input into Imperial translator droids, but the process had not been finished. Only the most basic of phrases could be translated.

Sloane had little hope of ever seeing him again. All that was known of his current whereabouts was that he wasn't here. Sloane could only assume he had died or been captured, though the latter was unlikely.

"Grand Admiral," Hux entered her personal quarters without waiting for an invitation. "The time you have specified to wait is over. What is our next move?"

Was this all they were going to get? How was she supposed to build a new Empire with this?

"I want every advantage for when we enter the Unknown Regions proper. Our loss of crew members is most unfortunate, but we cannot continue to wait for them. Our odds are poor as things stand."

Hux snorted, a derisive sound. "Your thinking is limited. You think a small force of fighters and poor resources isn't enough to take over a galaxy? We just watched such an event come to pass. Or did you forget how we ended up here?"

"Are you implying that we should act like filthy rebels?" Sloane bristled at the implications, though she knew them to be true.

"I'm implying we should do what's effective. If the Empire is to be reborn, we need to let go of what was holding it back in the first place."

This wasn't the first time Hux had made such a claim. The principles were sound, but he used them to justify his army of orphaned children. Sloane knew the other crew members were as disgusted with the practice as she was, but she refused to let them be sent back or even killed. They knew too much, and the Empire needed every person they could get. No matter the circumstances.

And in spite of everything, Sloane knew that Hux was right. It was the time to seek the most effective course of action, regardless of precedent, procedure, or protocol. New battlefields called for new tactics.

"We must depart."

A curt nod. "I thought so. Do you want me to inform the pilot?"

"I will do it myself, Hux. Stay out of where you don't belong."

Both exited Sloane's quarters, then Sloane took off alone. She was careful to walk with purpose, though she felt her pace of her heart quickening. She ignored every acknowledgement that other people made of her as she crossed the ship to the cockpit.

The pilot of the Eclipse was an older man named Graven. True to his name, he was a haggard soul who spoke little and responded slowly to any command. He was one of the few who had been on the original crew of his ship. When asked what had happened to the rest, his response was never specific and his eyes were always haunted. They hadn't been out here very long, sent out shortly before the Emperor's death. What could have happened to cause so much loss of life?

He grunted when he noticed her presence. "Is it time?"

Sloane nodded. "I'm afraid we can wait no longer. Plot the course for our first destination."

"..." Graven didn't move.

"What are you waiting for? It's time to leave."

"...You sure this is the best place for us to be traveling to? These people know we're coming?"

Sloane didn't answer his question. "We can't remain here, pilot. Nor is there a place for us back in our homes. Our only path now… is forward. Towards our new destiny."

Graven sighed and began preparations. As he did so, Sloane reached over to the comm link, transmitting a message for all the crew to hear. She cleared her throat, then began the announcement.

"Members of the Galactic Empire. We have given our comrades all the time we can spare, and they have not arrived. For the sake of those of us who remain, we are beginning course for entry into the Unknown Regions proper. Our first destination will be Csilla, home of the Chiss.

"As we go forth, our path will remain uncertain. Despite that, I am sure of one, very important thing. No matter what we encounter in the Unknown Regions, we will thrive. These systems will submit to the Empire, and through them, we shall gain our power back. We have not abandoned our galaxy to disorder forever. One day, soon in the future, I am confident we will be strong enough to take it back from those who wish for anarchy and disunion. We will save them, even as they crumble in on themselves, just as the Old Republic once did. We will bring them legitimate rule, legitimate order, and legitimate peace.

"And today, as we take our first leap together into hyperspace, we will take our first step towards righting the wrongs we have suffered. This is our first step… towards the future!"

"We ready?" Graven asked after the comm link was turned off.

Sloane nodded, sharply and only once. "Begin the jump into hyperspace."

Graven pulled the lever, and the lights went black.

* * *

Armitage Hux had been listening to the grand admiral when the lights went out. He looked around, waiting a moment to see if they would come back on. They did not.

"What's going on?" One of his father's soldiers asked him, but his tone was so rude and informal that Armitage didn't honor it with a reply. He only silenced him, then left the room to search about the ship.

Outside, Armitage heard his father cursing and quickly ducked the other way. He had no interest in facing the man now, no matter what the grand admiral had promised him.

Still, he couldn't help but overhear: "...again?! What is causing these blackouts?"

"We can't be certain, sir, but the ships data is indicative of a radiation blast of some kind. It seems to be of a variety comparable to a planet's anti-spacecraft defense system, meant to shut a ship down temporarily so that it can be shot down by fighters. But there's something about it that's been odd…"

"Been? You mean it's been happening on this ship, too? Despite everything the Eclipse is equipped with to prevent it?"

"Yes, sir. But what makes it different from similar blasts is that both the intervals and direction of origin appear to random. Not to mention, nothing seems to happen after the ship is hit. If it really were a planet's defense system, or even something similar to act against intruders, one would expect forces to attack us while our system is inoperational."

"But nothing ever does," his father finished, a thoughtful tone to his voice.

Armitage imagined the other man nodding as he continued. "Instead, the power always comes back after a few minutes, and everything after that acts normal. Whatever this is, I don't think it's meant to be hitting us. Or if it is, whoever's sending it out may not know we're being effected. I don't think these systems are being operated by sentient beings. Maybe they were once, but not anymore."

Armitage didn't understand what they were talking about. Was the second man a mechanic of some kind? And what kind of radiation could make a ship stop working?

He didn't care what the adults said. This plan sucked. He didn't want to travel to the Unknown Regions. As far as he knew, there was nothing there but savage, untamed planets filled with strange, uncivilized beasts. When he had been born on Arkanis, people around him bragged that the Empire was the strongest, greatest power in the galaxy. How could all of that have disappeared? How were they supposed to get it back?

The more the boy knew, the less likely it all seemed. He felt like the odds of the Empire's revival were slimming with each passing cycle. And he knew he wasn't the only one, even if none of the adults respected him enough to admit it. The only people on the ship who listened to him were his father's soldiers, and even then he was secondary.

Armitage wanted to go home. He wanted to live with his mother again. If she was still alive, that is.

But most of all, he wanted to turn around. More than anything else in the galaxy.

* * *

 **A/N's: Hello, everyone! This is an idea I've been bouncing around for a while, and my chosen Camp NaNo project. It picks up almost exactly where _Aftermath: Empire's End_ ends, and seeks to depict the rise of the First Order. While not my first SW fanfic ever, it is going to be my first long one, and I am strapped in for quite the long haul.**

 **I'm relatively new to the fandom (only a few months of being a "serious" fan), so Wikipedia is my best friend on a lot of matters. I might take inspiration from Legends, but expect my stuff to follow canon as best I can. That said, don't be afraid to point it out if I get a detail wrong. As long as you're constructive about it, I won't be mad.**

 **I'm working on a second chapter right now, so expect that to be up as early as tomorrow, or as late as next week. Thanks for reading, don't forget to review, and I'll see you on the far side!**

 **UPDATE: This story has been on hiatus for a while, and is being reworked to suit a better long-term plan. This chapter hasn't changed much, but the four after it are being moved around to make three.**


	2. A Struggling Stalemate

Chapter Two

A Struggling Stalemate

It was no use. They'd held out hope for years, but no help was coming. They were going to lose this fight. This war. This planet.

Der'tuam'namandra fell back with her squadron as the enemy approached. They shot at the advancing foes, to no avail. Even the blasts that hit only inconvenienced them as they fell back and rose again, looking even more black and deformed than before. She privately wondered if ripping their limbs apart would stop them. Probably not.

The Chiss Ascendancy had tried everything. They'd tried defeating them in a direct battle, only to lose soldiers needlessly. They'd tried quarantining the enemy camps away from their villages, only to watch as the enemies found escapes from their prisons. They'd even tried freezing them out on the ice of Csilla, only to realize that their enemy was resistant to such tricks. With everything so far failing, Der'tuam'namandra wasn't optimistic about their newest plan in the slightest. Especially considering the role she was supposed to play in it.

Still, none of them had been caught yet, which was the closest to victory one could hope for. If one were caught by the enemy, they had no chance of survival. The Chiss had learned that the hard way.

Just the thought of being caught made the soldier's feet run faster. She didn't want to be around when the enemy got close. Scared as she was, she didn't even look to see if they were giving chase, despite the plan relying on just such a thing.

Their predetermined line was in sight. Once the squadron made it past that line, it would be over.

Der'tuam'namandra was almost there. Taking a chance, she took a look back.

It was a mistake.

A rotting hand. Once blue, now covered in black. The stench of sweet rot assaulted her senses. She threw her weight forward, trying to throw it off. Trying to dislodge its grip.

It worked, but to no effect. Escape was not an option. Not now that she'd been touched.

One touch was all the enemy needed to take you. If you didn't die now, you would die later of its slow, painful infection. All you could do was kill yourself now in the hopes you took no one else with you.

So the soldier made the sacrifice, grabbing her attacker and throwing the two of them into the snow.

As Der'tuam'namandra fell, she looked up to the Csillan sky. She couldn't pass the line now. Not with what she would become later on.

Ascendancy ships circled high above, almost out of sight. Their flight had been dead silent, hidden in the clouds for most of their trip. She only knew their ships were there from being told earlier.

Above even them, a ship she'd never seen. Something black and large. It was nothing a Chiss would ever be found or seen on.

Der'tuam'namandra felt her lips move, asking a question she didn't know the answer to. Beside her, her attacker grunted, trying to gain the upper hand against her.

The soldier struggled to keep it from overtaking her out of instinct, knowing in her head that it no longer mattered. She cringed as the black covered her hands, too thick to feel like blood.

Above her, the cold turned to heat. Der'tuam'namandra looked up, wanting to see for herself. Would the plan the Aristocra had made bring fruition this time? Or were her people doomed for yet another failure?

Whatever the result, the Chiss female knew she would not live to see it. So she fell back on top of the enemy. The one that had marked her for death.

Explosions rang out all around her. As the winter turned to hellscape, she couldn't help but smile.

And with that smile, she felt a delusional euphoria. A dying delirium as the sky rained fire.

* * *

After a few false starts, the Eclipse was finally in sight of the planet Csilla, home of the Chiss and origin of Grand Admiral Thrawn. And despite her best assurances, Sloane was beginning to have second thoughts.

They were going to send down a communication before landing, but what if the ship was received poorly? As Graven has so eloquently pointed out, these people hadn't been warned of their coming. The plan to land here had been created on the ship, not laid out for them like fleeing to the Eclipse had been.

But they could only follow orders for so long before their trail of clues ended. If the Empire was to survive, they needed a living, breathing emperor to guide them, not the ghost of Palpatine. And as far as Sloane was concerned, she was the best suited individual to act as that leader.

"That's it, correct? The icy one ahead?"

Graven shrugged. "If our accounts are correct? Probably."

"The Chiss as a people don't know our language, right? The translator droids aren't versed in it, as far as I know."

"Thrawn himself had an interpreter. How are we to communicate with them?" Imperials on the ship asked. Based on the way they were dressed, it could be assumed they had been wealthy merchants once. Or perhaps bankers.

"Information about the Chiss and their language was being uploaded into the Imperial database as soon as Thrawn became an admiral and colonization was greenlighted as a possibility. However, much of the information was taken from Thrawn himself, and the man stayed busy. The information in the archive is marked as incomplete." One of the Imperial scientists Sloane didn't know the name of responded. "Our protocol droid does know some of their language, but only the simplest of phrases. Anything we wish to say must be watered down, and I doubt the translations will be perfect."

"It's better than going in with nothing. If Thrawn was a typical example of his kind, the Chiss are great warriors. Clever, resourceful, proud. Intensely loyal to one another. The kind of peoples the Empire would have been proud to accept in their ranks, if only we'd had less prejudice."

That wasn't received well. Even among the last of the Empire, old habits were proving hard to let go of. Sloane waited for the murmurs to die down before she continued. "I have no concerns about setting up a meeting with them. Our ship needs to refuel before it makes any more hyperspace jumps."

No one disagreed with her last statement. Constant restarts had used up more fuel than the remnants had accounted for, and though it was announced as a precautionary measure, the first round of rationing hadn't exactly gone flawlessly. Sloane was so used to dealing with military individuals and leaders that she had forgotten the ease of life and lack of discipline so commonly possessed by civilians, as at least half the ship's inhabitants were. When one woman had announced her pregnancy, Sloane had to resist ordering her court marshalled. Why would anyone have a child in these conditions?

The grand admiral waited for the deck to clear of non-essential personnel before turning to the resident protocol droid. It was an RA-7 model, and an unpleasant one at that. More than usual, even. Sloane detested its attitude from the moment she'd boarded. "AP-9. We are sending out a comm link to the planet surface now. Be ready to deliver the prepared message."

"I have it. It's short enough, so don't repeat it. But… to string together a more eloquent message, I can switch to Sy Bisti. That is the trade language that Eli Vanto used when he encountered the late grand admiral. The Chiss would understand it fine, and I wouldn't have to speak like a simpleton."

"...No. I don't want to assume too much. The Empire, as it stands, has encountered very few of this people, and only been well acquainted with one. It is better, I believe, to address them in the language we are sure they speak."

A sigh. "Very well, Grand Admiral. I will recite when prompted."

Not wanting to engage AP-9 further, Sloane turned to Graven's co-pilot, Marawan. "Open the comm channel and attempt to contact the surface."

"Yes, Grand Admiral."

She couldn't imagine their communication technology was all that different from the Empire's. After all, how many different ways could one transmit a radio signal?

Sloane watched as Marawan fiddled with the equipment, waiting in silence to hear something on the other end of the line.

Nothing. There was no indication that their signal was even reaching the surface. However, there was also nothing suggesting it was being blocked, even though interference was abundant. It seemed there was some sort of commotion happening on the planet surface. A battle of some kind?

"Get closer to the planet's surface. I want to see what's going on."

"Yes, Grand Admiral."

As the Eclipse inched closer to the planet and its atmosphere, their scanners and observation deck were able to make out other ships hovering over the planet, raining bombs down onto the ground below. Sloane's suspicions were confirmed when the area was scanned for lifeforms.

It was a battle. A battle Sloane knew nothing about, and something she had no desire to enter the fray of anytime soon.

"It seems we've arrived at a bad time," Graven noted. "Should we turn back and look for fuel elsewhere?"

"Where else will we go? Where else do we know much of anything about the lifeforms and their capabilities but this planet? Even our limited knowledge of the Chiss is more than we have on most of this region of space."

"But Grand Admiral! We can't involve ourselves in their war. The peoplewho were brought to us are weary from fighting our own battles. They will not be eager to intervene in a foreign conflict." Moden Canady, the closest she had to a second in command, spoke out.

He wasn't wrong, but Sloane wasn't about to admit it. They needed a way in if their ship was to last much longer. "However… if we were to enter the fray on the side of the Chiss, swaying the battle in their favor, they would be in our debt. They might give us more than fuel if we were their cause for victory."

"We know nothing about this dispute! For all we know, the Chiss are on the brink of extinction by a much stronger enemy. If we were to anger whoever they are fighting, we would become their target. I am not convinced we are prepared to deal with such an eventuality."

Reasonable as his argument may have seemed, Sloane would not concede. She felt she had no other options to explore. At least, none that were safe. "You're right when you say we know nothing about this situation. But whoever those ships belong to, they must use some form of fuel to run them. They have what we need, and we have to find a way to get it."

"So what are you proposing?"

The admiral thought about it for a second, noticing how all eyes were on her. "We need information about what's happening on the ground. We send a team of soldiers down with the droid and have them report back."

"Down into a battle? I don't operate in those conditions!" AP-9 protested.

"Shut him off until landing if you have to. But we need to not draw the attention of whoever it is the Chiss are fighting. I am prepared to approve a single squadron of fully trained troops for a reconnaissance mission. Do we have any probe droids that could assist the effort?"

"No, Grand Admiral."

"Very well. We will have to ensure our communications between the ground and the ship remain open at all times."

"Who will you send to lead them, Grand Admiral?"

Sloane looked Canady in the eye. "You're the one who arrived with almost two hundred men, Captain. Who do you recommend?"

He was silent for a minute, giving the question a considerable amount of thought. "Send Lieutenant Kalvnik down with a half dozen men. He's done similar missions in the past, and is better than most at working with local forces."

Sloane nodded, accepting his assessment. "Let them know their mission, then send them down in an escape pod. Make sure they understand that they are to report back on everything."

"Yes, Grand Admiral."

"And take the droid with you."

"Understood, Grand Admiral."

"Take! Pah. I will walk on my own, if you agree to leave my power on."

Sloane watched as the two exited the deck, wishing she knew more about what she was getting them all into. At the same time, she also hesitated to seek the truth.

What lay at the heart of this dispute, and where did that leave the Empire and their plans? If the Empire were standing in all its former glory, Sloane would not have been so tentative. She would have had confidence in their ability to face down any enemy.

But here, in this position of weakness, that confidence was shattered. Healing their wounds would not only deal with external damage.

Sloane snapped herself out of it. They hadn't fled to the Unknown Regions to mourn losses, or lick their wounds.

They'd come here for revival. To become bigger and stronger than ever before. To finally be an unmovable force not a force in the galaxy could deny.

And it would begin here. On this planet, with this crew.

Of that, she was sure.

* * *

Lieutenant Chris Kalvnik stood at attention as Vice Admiral Canady relayed his orders, wondering how long it would be before he could get on with the mission already. It was a simple job, one that didn't require this much explanation. They could have been done with this whole thing in half the time.

Not that he would say that, of course.

"The grand admiral thinks six men plus you and the droid will be appropriate for the job. You may choose who goes on your mission with you from all adult soldiers on this ship. Your orders are solely to observe and make contact with the Chiss to learn of their situation. You are not authorized to participate in any battle that may be raging on the planet surface. Do you understand?"

"Yeah, I get it." The vice admiral raised an eyebrow at his tone, forcing Kalvnik to correct himself. "Yessir. You... don't have to specify adults, sir. I wasn't gonna nab on of Hux's brats."

Canady had to put effort into maintaining a neutral expression."I... didn't imagine you would. Just make sure you're in contact with the ship at all times, and be careful out there. Our attempts to call ahead haven't been successful, and the Chiss appear to be in a war of some kind. We don't know how who's fighting whom, or how they might react to seeing you."

"Thrawn was a Chiss, right?" Kalvnik had never met or served under the guy, but he was well known throughout the Imperial military. "Would it be helpful to mention him?"

"Perhaps. You can even show them his image, if you'd like." The vice admiral tossed him a few comm links, then a holo-projector. "Do not lose these."

"Can we take blasters?"  
Canady thought about it for a minute. "Your orders are to not fight, but I won't stop you. We don't know what's down there, and we'd be worse off for losing you." He paused, as if trying to remember something. "Don't forget to take the appropriate attire, as well. Our scans suggest Csilla is a cold, icy planet."

"Yessir. I take my leave at your command."

Canady nodded. "Gather your men and get on with it."

Kalvnik saluted, then waltzed out the door. He drove a hand over his messy blonde hair, then scowled at the stubble collecting on his chin. He was letting himself go.

Canady hadn't been a vice admiral when their crew had arrived on the Eclipse, but he'd quickly made himself into one. Best the lieutenant understood matters, he and the grand admiral knew each other from somewhere. The grand admiral was a cautious, callous woman, but she trusted Canady, as did most who knew him.

Kalvnik didn't know much about either person, but he had no choice but to go with what other people were saying. Most people seemed to be here on reputation, anyways, and all he had left to vouch for him were his men.

He burst into the mess hall, gesturing at his five cadets and their corporal to gather before him. Kalvnik was one of the lucky soldiers in that he hadn't lost all his men in the Empire's fall. Just a good number of them.

They'd been serving out on Ryloth when it happened. Everything had been going relatively well until the battle of Endor. Then a few months later, the Twi'leks decided they were gonna have an uprising. He and the other soldiers had held out for as long as they could, but it was no use. Day after day, they became more and more desperate to keep order… until one day, he snapped.

Kalvnik saw the writing on the wall in the nick of time. And when all he'd foreseen came to pass, any kindness Kalvnik had shown the Twi'leks previously in his time there became meaningless, and they slaughtered his company in the dark of the night as revenge for everything the Empire had done to them. It had been a humiliating retreat, one they'd barely lived to see the end of.

They'd joined up with Kanady on his ship after fleeing the system, only running into him by chance. For them, their choice was between going off into the Unknown Regions with a bunch of delusional fools who thought the Empire would rise again... or be put on trial by the New Republic for war crimes, a trial they would undoubtedly lose. To the seven of them, the choice had been clear.

"Come on, men. We've been assigned our first mission."

"Yes, finally!" Kevin Gordon, the youngest of the group, cheered. "We getting off the ship?"

Kalvnik nodded, sharply and only once. "We've been assigned a recon mission on Csilla's surface. They've observed a battle going on, and want us to figure out exactly what's going on down there. We're to look around, talk to some Chiss, and report back."

"That's it?"

"That's all. No fighting. The orders are from the grand admiral herself."

Viveen Grey, the corporal and second in command, rolled her eyes. "Grand admiral. She was a vice admiral before Endor's Death Star blew up, and just played politics from there. She was elevated too far too fast, and her leadership shows it."

Kalvnik didn't want to hear it again. "Regardless, I was instructed to get six more men for the job. That's enough for all of us to go together. Then we meet up with the protocol droid, get our equipment, and head down to the surface." He pulled the comm links out of his pocket, counting them for the first time. Sure enough, there were enough that everyone got one. "Put these on, and don't lose or remove them under any circumstances."

"Yes, Lieutenant."

It was at that moment Kalvnik realized they were being watched. Mostly by other soldiers in the mess hall, but a few civilians were scattered in there as well. He grunted in their direction, encouraging them to get back to their own business.

It wasn't that he didn't know anyone else on this ship, but ever since Ryloth, he'd been jumpy. He was careful not to reveal much to anyone else, and his men all knew to do the same.

So it was with a cautious eye that each left the mess hall. Irrational as it was, Kalvnik wanted no one following them when they entered the armory.

He didn't want to be betrayed again.

* * *

 **A/N's: Yay, second chapter is out! Even with my reduced goal, I'm still roughly a thousand words behind. Whoops.**

 **But this is the beginning of the Chiss arc. Because I plan to have this story cover a lot of ground and don't want to be writing it until I'm thirty, I plan to organize the grand story into arcs, each of which will likely be five-ten chapters long, with perhaps seven arcs in total before the grand finale. Still a long ass story, but far more manageable for me personally.**

 **Also, though most of the characters introduced in this chapter are OCs, Canady actually isn't. He's the commander of the Dreadnought in TLJ, an old Imperial who dislikes his crew for being young, inexperienced, and arrogant. He gets to have a much larger role in this story, as do characters who only appeared in the comics or books. The reason I'm sticking so much to Sloane for now is because I have to get other character more established first. She probably won't be in every arc, despite being an important character.**

 **Regardless, hope you're enjoying so far! Thanks for reading, don't forget to leave your thoughts below, and I'll see you on the far side!**


	3. A Ravaged People

Chapter Three

A Ravaged People

As soon as the team was geared up, they made their way to the designated escape pod, where AP-9 was waiting for them.

"Finally. You were supposed to have arrived for landing approximately six and a half standard minutes ago!"

"Then we have time to make up. Let's go."

"Do each of you remember your mission?"

"You don't need to repeat it," Grey interrupted the officer before he could go into it again. "And besides, we'll be in contact the whole time. If one of us, through some memory disorder yet to be discovered, did actually forget, you can just tell us again."  
"Why did Canady pick you?" The captain (best Kalvnik could guess) grumbled. Kalvnik was about to about to reply when the man continued. "Feh. Doesn't matter. Just do your job."

The escape pod opened, and the eight of them all went inside and (with the exception of AP-9) took a seat. They watched as the door closed on them. Before anyone could say more, the pod disconnected from the Eclipse.

They weren't so much flying as falling. As the surface of Csilla came closer, Kalvnik allowed himself to be curious about what they would face there.

Was the Unknown Regions really having a war of their own? If so, what was the scale of it? Would it explain the random power outages they'd had on the way here? Who was winning, and what side would the Empire end up on? Were they ready to fight another war, so soon after the last?

All these thoughts and more were silenced as the planet atmosphere pushed against their craft, followed minutes later by a harsh landing.

They were here. And it was cold.

* * *

The Aristocra was in shambles. Chiss were screaming and shouting all around each other, no single voice being heard above the clamor of everyone else.

They had to try something new. Everyone agreed on that. It was what that was the issue. It seemed every time the Chiss as a people were about to come to a conclusion, a new voice entered the mix and threw it all into disarray. And with that, they were right back where they started: nowhere.

"So what do you suggest, General? We take our ships, pour our fuel down, and light every area we see an enemy on fire?"

"I don't see what's wrong with that!"

"We don't have enough fuel for half of what you're suggesting! Not without mining in enemy territory. And how would we make sure the fire doesn't turn back on our people? Ridding us of them does no good if we're all dead!"

It had been like this ever since the last battle ended. Casualties had been lower than before, and Ari'nitan'colgrana had wrongfully believed that may be cause for celebration. Unfortunately, a small victory (or less than an absolute loss, as the pessimistics saw it) had done nothing to turn the tide of slow extinction. It seemed a new village was being abandoned every month, even as the survivors closed their doors to refugees.

No one wanted to be infected. Even the Chiss who seemed healthy were treated with suspicion if they even so much as mentioned encountering the plague. And everyone knew that when the plague took hold, friends became enemies, and lovers murderers. Fear had been rampant for years on end, and showed no sign of abating.

It was that very same fear that kept them from coming together as a people. They would be stronger if they knew who to trust. But until the blue changed to black, it was impossible to be certain if someone was your enemy.

"Enough!" She called out, waiting for silence. After a minute, they seemed to comply. "I think we can take this idea a step forward… if you'll hear me out."

"Yes, Arin?" Her father, a member of the Aristocra counsel, turned to her. "What is it?"

"I do believe we can use fire against this disease. But small amounts aren't enough. We would have to entrap them in a large blaze... but we would also have to keep it centered in one area."

"And how would we do that?

Arin had to consider it. "What if we lured them into an area we knew we could seal off? Perhaps the Crater to our southwest?"

"We have runners catch their attention and lead them to the blast zone, then our ships can sneak up on them from above and bomb them." The general, a mid-aged male Chiss, expanded upon her idea. "We haven't tried it yet. And at this rate, that's a good enough reason to give it a shot."

Cheers came, tired and scattered amongst murmurs of resignation. Winter was getting harsher this year, and the fighting had made food stores light. No one wanted to go out and hunt in these times unless they were desperate.

"This is madness! Nothing is going to be able to stop them!" A tear filled cry. "Don't you see? This is our destiny. Our punishment from above for whatever our sins may be."

"We never should have looked to the outside world. This curse comes from outside Csilla, and when it is through, Csilla will not remain. Only the menace that torments our souls."

Chaos once again. Arin groaned, wishing she could be doing something useful with her time. Anything was better than listening to crowds bicker.

* * *

"Will you two stop bickering? I'm trying to focus, here."

"Focus on what? All I see is snow and ice!" Grey shivered in spite of her cloak. The cloaks had been a last minute decision, meant to hide their weapons. "Marawan, are you sure this is the correct way?"

"According to our visuals, you all are headed in the correct direction. You should reach a village of some kind any minute now."

"A village of some kind, huh?" Kalvnik worked hard to keep the sarcasm out of his voice. "Got anything more specific than that? Heat scans? Signs of a struggle?"

"Nope, the ship's been moved too far away for that. You're the eyes and ears down there." And with that, Kalvnik's communication was disconnected. While it had been important to establish they could, indeed, get a signal down at the surface, the call itself hadn't done much to help them.

"I'm confused. Why are we keeping in touch with the ship if they can't do anything for us?"

"These comm links aren't for us, nerfherder. We're wearing them for the ship's benefit," Marx Dunn, a tall, brutish soldier answered Gordon. "They get to wait nice and cozy up there while we trudge through this winter wonderland by ourselves."

"Guys, shut up. I think I see something."

They all went silent at Kalvnik's request, squinting through their headgear towards where he pointed. "What is that?"

"I would think it's the village we were told of." AP-9 began to walk up to it, only for Kavlnik to stop him.

"Wait. We have no idea what or who is in there. First, we need to scout the perimeter. Make sure there's nothing that can endanger us before rushing into battle. So unless you secretly moonlight as a battle droid, lay off."

"Hmph."

"You heard the lieutenant. Two groups of two should go around the settlement from each direction and report back with what they see. If you don't call in in a few minutes, we come after you."

"Yes, Corporal!" Kalvnik, Grey, Gordon, and AP-9 watched as the rest of their group filed out. They didn't want anyone to go off alone just yet, but Kalvnik wondered if they should even be splitting up at all.

It was probably nothing. Just a few big bonfires that got the bigwigs nervous and required a team of soldiers to confirm as harmless.

But as the time ticked on, Kalvnik couldn't help but to become nervous. It was midday. He and his men weren't far from the village entrance at all, and yet it was silent. Eerily so. The last time Kalvnik had seen a settlement of sentient beings so quiet…

His eyes lost focus, memories flashing back to his final days on Ryloth. One minute, the village was so quiet, so peaceful. Kalvnik thought the insurgents had abandoned it. The next…

There was fire. Kalvnik was watching with a mad glee as the flames spread everywhere, engulfing buildings and lives indiscriminately as each turned to ash. It would be the last time those tail-headed bastards thought to lead him into a trap. They'd thought he would be an easy mark, thought he would be soft on them no matter what trick they pulled.

Well, it wasn't true. None of it was true. They would pay dearly for the mistake they made in thinking he could be used as a pawn.

A cold wind poured over Kalvnik, cooling his fever dream. His comm link beeped. "What is it? Have you found anything?"

"We have. You might want to take a look at it, Lieutenant."

"It," Kalvnik repeated. "What is 'it'? And where are you?"

The cadet gave the other groups directions to find them. When they did, everyone recoiled in shock. The stench of rot overwhelmed their senses, followed by a strange sweet.

Were Chiss not supposed to be blue skinned? And solid?

* * *

"I'm sorry, go over it again. You found what, exactly?"

"It's a de-a body of some kind," Kalvnik leaned in, not wanting to get too close to it. "I think it used to be a Chiss."

"You think so? Why the uncertainty, Lieutenant?"

"It looks like it's been dead a while. And the body doesn't look like… wait." Kalvnik got out his holo-projector, pulling up an image of Thrawn. "It doesn't look at all like Thrawn. It's all black and… I think it's dissolving."

"Do you think it may just be decomposing?" Gordon asked, reaching over with a gloved hand to-

"Don't touch it!" Kalvnik snapped. Gordon pulled his hand back almost reflexively, clearly shocked. "We don't know what it died of! For all we know, it's diseased."

"Can you send over an image of the body in question?" A new voice rang in from over the comm link. It was Canady himself. "Have you found any more bodies like this one?"

"No sir," Corporal Grey spoke up through her own link. They were all connected in to this call. "We saw fit to report after finding this one, and we still haven't entered the village proper."

"But no signs of life?"

"No sir. It's possible the entire village is dead."

"Hmm…" Everyone (even the droid, who had been inconsolable upon the discovery of the body) was silent as the vice admiral considered their options. "This doesn't bode well for our plans. You said it looked like they died of disease?"

"That was my first thought," Kalvnik confirmed. "Unless this is an unusual scavenger bacteria that goes after corpses, I think the black is from an infection of some kind."

"Of course, we don't actually know anything," AP-9 had to chime in. "This is all baseless conjecture."

"Well, operate on the side of caution. I agree with the lieutenant in that you shouldn't try and touch it. If it is some foreign disease, I don't want any of you getting sick with it. We probably don't have treatment for it."

"Yessir. We will gather visuals of the body and scan the village for lifeforms. When that's done, we will report back with whatever we've found."

"Good job, soldier. Here's to hoping we can find some live Chiss soon." And with that, Canady ended their second call to the Eclipse since landing on Csilla.

Kalvnik's men all turned to him. "You heard me. Scan the area in groups of two. The droid and I will be here, gathering visual evidence for further examination. I don't want anyone going off by themselves, you hear?"

They saluted. "Yes sir!"

The lieutenant watched them file out, then turned back to the corpse at hand. He tried not to think about what he was doing as he took out the visual scanner. His goal was to create a holographic image for the ship to look over long after he got sick to his stomach from it.

"Here, AP-9. You get in close." He tossed the device to the droid.

"Me? What do you think I can do? I'm a protocol droid, in case you forgot!"

The soldier grit his teeth. "Exactly. You're a droid. Which means organic diseases can't harm you. I don't want to catch whatever this guy had."

A snort. Who even programmed this thing? "If you even can as a human."

"I don't know. Chiss seem pretty humanoid to me. We probably have a more similar makeup than you think." Why was he wasting his time with this junkmetal? "Will you just take the scans and send them back to the ship?"

"Fine," AP-9 conceded. Kalvnik watched as the droid flipped the rotting corpse onto its back, cringing as the torso came apart and black goo gushed out. The smell was getting worse by the minute. Kalvnik could only hope the bile rising in his throat was out of disgust, and not anything more.

He may not have been a stranger to dead bodies, but this was no fallen soldier. This wasn't the work of a blaster shot or an air bomb. This was something else. Something unknown. Something capable of reducing a sentient body to slime.

And whatever it was that had happened to this Chiss, Kalvnik would do everything in his power to prevent it from happening to him or his men. They'd been through too much just to die out here.

That was when he noticed. The way the gunk splashed on the snow… it didn't remain stationary. Even if one assumed the fluid were somewhat warm and causing the snow to melt, it shouldn't be flowing the way it was.

It almost looked like it was headed for him. But that was crazy, right? What kind of-

"Get back!" Kalvnik's instincts trumped his reason, and he fired his blaster into the ground towards the black liquid.

AP-9's head shot up. "What are you doing? I'm trying to take scans over here!"

"The liquid… it looked like it was coming at me." Kalvnik knew exactly how crazy he sounded. He fired twice more into the snow for good measure. "Just... finish your job quickly. I want to get away from here."

AP-9 fixed him with a stare, then shook his mechanical head. Must have thought he was losing his grip.

And maybe he was. Kalvnik had seen some shit in his time as an Imperial soldier. Things he wouldn't repeat to anyone. But despite that, he wasn't about to doubt his senses. Not with how many times they'd saved his sorry ass in a battle.

He made a call to his men. "Found anything?"

Gar'an, a tall, lean fellow, was the first to respond. "Just more bodies, sir. Some are a bit less black than the one we found together, and look like they were stabbed to death or had their limbs ripped apart. Some are just piles of slime. We're documenting the evidence as I speak, sir."

"Well, don't get close to the black liquid, whatever it is. I don't want to see a single drop on any of you. AP-9 is already getting close-up scans of a body, so it isn't necessary for any of you to do so."

Kalvnik hadn't always been this cautious. Before his time on Ryloth, he was as reckless as an enemy rebel, and in constant trouble because of it. But after his time on that planet, Kalvnik had felt his mind turn in on itself, internalizing every thought until he constantly overthought everything. It made him feel better to think it was just part of getting old (even though he was barely thirty-five), but that didn't stop him from giving everything a third glance.

"AP-9. Are the scans finished?"

"...They are. Sending them back to the Eclipse now." As soon as the droid got out of the way, Kalvnik fired another round of shots into the black goo, which he swore had gotten closer since he last looked.

"Okay, men. AP-9 and I are done here. We'll be waiting at the front entrance to the village for you all to finish. I want everyone fully inspected by a partner after they leave the area."

"Do you really think it's that bad, Lieutenant?"

"Whatever it was, Dunn, it wiped out at least an entire village of Chiss. Plagues and wars are a debilitating combination, and not something I wish on even the worst of Imperials."

"Yes sir, We are making our way back, now."

After Kalvnik got two more variations of that response, he ended the call, cocking his head for the droid to follow. It scoffed, but complied.

At the rendezvous point, Kalvnik watched as each of his men looked each other over for signs of the infection. They all appeared to be clean, allowing Kalvnik a small relief.

"Grey. Check me for any signs of the Chiss disease."

"Yessir," she replied, cool grey eyes sweeping him over front and back. He complied when she told him to lift his cloak, appreciating the amount of thoroughness she put into every job.

"Everyone seems to be clean, sir. Should we call the ship again?"

"I suppose it's time, yes." He made the call himself, somewhat surprised that Canady was the first one to pick up.

"Vice Admiral. Did you receive the transmissions we made?"

The middle aged man swallowed. "I did, Lieutenant. The crew and I were reviewing then before you called. Do you believe that infection wiped out every Chiss in the village?"

"It's not clear if they all died of it, but it seems obvious that they were all infected at some stage. If we could, we would take a sample back to ship with us, but unfortunately, we lack the materials."

"That's fine, though I'm sure our scientists on board with disagree." In a stroke of unimaginable luck, most of the Empire's top scientists had been able and willing to reach the Eclipse on time. "We'll show them the evidence you collected and see what the medics aboard can tell us. In the meantime, show the utmost levels of caution. Look for signs of life."

No shit. Kalvnik resisted the urge to hang up in a rage. "Will we have navigational assistance from the ship in searching for other settlements?"

"Yes, you will. And while it may not seem like it where you are, our initial scans did pick up signs of a battle when we first arrived. Look for signs of firebombing and you should find it."

* * *

 **A/N's: And so we have to wait until the next chapter for our team of soldiers to meet some live Chiss. I decided I had already introduced too many points in this chapter, so more will be done in the next, as well as some more action. The Empire finally gets to learn about what the Chiss have been fighting for all these years.**

 **Let it be known that I have yet to read the Thrawn novel, by the way. The canon one, I mean. It looks good, and I really want it, and if it goes into much about Csilla and the Chiss, please tell me. I am relying on Wookiepedia here. And there's not much on there, so I've taken a few creative liberties. Also, expect some liberal use of Legends stories going forward.**

 **Once again, thank you for taking the time to read. Hope you enjoyed, don't forget to review, and I'll see you on the far side!**


	4. Simple Words of Fate

Chapter Four

Simple Words of Fate

"You found what?" The scout flinched as he was snapped at, trying to avoid the flying spit of his commander.

"Radio signals, sir. Not ours, but something else's," Krav'kenitt'itaawn reported. "I noticed them while the ship was scanning, but they were at a frequency our ships are not equipped to receive. We're no longer alone on this planet, Commander."

"Tch," his commander swore before continuing. "We haven't had Csilla to ourselves for years, Kenitt. Not since those idiots thought we could live beyond our means."

Kenitt felt an old rage rise up in his chest. When times had been good, there had been a faction of Chiss hellbent on leaving the Aristocra's policy of solitude behind, thinking they were strong enough to conquer the whole galaxy. Thousands of Chiss were swayed by a their lies, and set out into a hostile galaxy. Only a small fraction returned after their resounding failure.

But they didn't have the decency to return alone. No, they had to bring… him. It.

Mnggal-Mnggal, they called it now. Double death, as it were. Because not only did it kill your body, but also your soul. Your loyalty. Your sanity. Once it killed you, it took over your body and attacked your kin. Even if you died uninfected, it could take your corpse. Those who committed suicide spared only themselves. Bodies had to be burned or at least dismembered.

There was panic. Chaos. Left and right, the Chiss were abandoned by their own. Those that had claimed they would find help outside Csilla had done so as a ruse to leave their world behind. That was the only explanation that existed.

"Do you think it has something to do with the ship we saw overhead a half-cycle ago? Can you track where the signals are coming from on the surface side?"

"Perhaps it does. And yes, Commander. We will do so." Kenitt wasn't sure what to think of the ship some of his compatriots had claimed they saw. He hadn't seen it himself, nor had he ever seen a ship the Chiss hadn't made.

"Good." His red eyes looked ragged, tired out from the constant battle that survival had become. The commander's once-vibrant blue skin was greying and beginning to sag. But at least it wasn't blackening, and nor was Kenitt's.

Every day, Kenitt had to remind himself to be grateful for the dubious gift of health. He knew he was luckier than most, but what good was it? Why be thankful for not dying when it meant everyone else died around him? So long as his body was not used against others, he was fine with reaching an end to his suffering.

There was no hope left for the Chiss people. Anyone who thought otherwise was deluding themselves. They were on the path to certain extinction. Their only choice was whether to take it fast or slow.

It was with this cheerful demeanor that Kenitt set out on his mission, already wishing it to be over.

* * *

"I don't think this is the right way."

"Trust me when I say it is!" Their navigator insisted. "You're really close to another settlement."

"Is this another town of corpses?" Gordon looked queasy.

"I don't think so. We're too far out to scan for sure, but our telescopes are picking up movement in places your team isn't. Most likely Chiss."

"This is where you come in, AP-9," Kalvnik reminded the droid, who grunted.

"We should use Sy Bisti. I know far more of that language. Our conversations will be far more meaningful."

"Assuming more Chiss than just Thrawn knew it, is the Grand Admiral's view. She doesn't want to risk a misunderstanding or incident of any kind." They were reminded from the team aboard the ship.

This was quite the departure from previous Imperial policies when they reached new worlds, but if there was one area that Kalvnik could agree with the Grand Admiral in, it was that the Empire no longer had the strength and confidence it once possessed. That didn't mean they should show weakness, but they did have to be realistic. And a little more humble.

"We may not be in contact with you when you make the first encounter, but do try to keep us updated. The Grand Admiral will be interested to know how things proceed. Don't be surprised if she's on the line for your next check in. You might even-" And before anything else could be said, the call went to static.

"Woah, what happened?"

"Did we just lose signal?"

"Is that not obvious?" Grey snarled at the two men, hand going below her cloak as they looked around.

The team of Imperials didn't notice anything at first, but then came a rapidly descending… cloud?

It was followed by a large shadow falling over them. The team all looked up simultaneously, then gasped.

Above them was a large, sleek ship, colored a cold, matte grey that blended well with the Csillan clouds. It didn't have the propellers necessary for space travel, but seemed quite adept at making fast and silent trips over the planet surface.

"It's a stealth ship!" Mikhail, the only party member with any real flight training, cried out. "Watch out!"

Out of instinct, the group of eight scattered. Even AP-9 wanted out of the way. Kalvnik and his men searched for cover, only to realize there was none.

How long had they been following them? Who were they?

It was just before the group was out of earshot from each other that Kalvnik realized. "Wait. They aren't shooting! Stand down. I repeat, stand down. Do not draw your blasters just yet."

That got everyone to stop. They stood still in the knee deep snowdrift as the ship descended, making sure they were close together. They wanted to have each other's backs if a fight broke out.

So maybe Kalvnik's team wasn't the best for what boiled down to a diplomatic mission. Nothing could be done about it now.

Time stood still as the first few Chiss descended from the ship. They were, surprisingly, outnumbered by the group of humans. That was far less than the size of the ship suggested.

Now these creatures looked more like the Chiss Kalvnik had expected. The three males looked almost exactly like Thrawn's holo-image. The two females were a bit more slight, with a figure not unlike a human woman's. Had it not been for the blue skin and red eyes, Kalvnik might have thought they were.

They stopped about five feet away from Kalvnik's group, weapons in their hand and distrust in their eyes. They looked ready for an excuse to fight.

The lieutenant kept a neutral face as he spoke. "Your turn, AP-9. Greet them."

The group of Imperials went silent as AP-9's voice box contorted into a complex patterns of syllables, seemingly with no space between words. In his mind, Kalvnik knew the message was supposed to be: "Hello, Chiss of Csilla. We are humans of the Galactic Empire, here in peace." But to him, the two languages sounded nothing alike.

They could only hope AP-9's data was accurate. And sufficient for the task.

Kalvnik's observed the group's facial expressions carefully as the droid spoke. The initial surprise was to be expected, but what was the look they shared with each other afterwards? Fear? Concern? Restraint?

They spoke in their twisted language, sounding just like how AP-9 had. It was a short message, one that Kalvnik waited until the end of to ask for a translation. "What did they say?"

The protocol droid paused. "They said that we should… We should…" It shook its head. "I don't know what was said after that."

"Tell them you only understand simple words, and to speak clearly." Grey suggested. They could only assume AP-9 took her advice.

What sounded like a snort came from the Chiss side. It was at times like these that Kalvnik wish he knew a language other than Galactic Basic. But he'd been raised in an Imperial household, one that considered the skill useless.

Basic was the language of the galaxy. Just… not this portion of the galaxy.

This reply was just as short, but it came slower and more enunciated. All heads turned to AP-9 for a translation.

His words were grim. "'Leave Csilla now. You are not wanted. You will die here.'"

"Cheery," Grey noted. "Ask them what's been going on on Csilla. Tell them we saw fighting."

AP-9 went back to speaking their language without another comment. The Chiss looked irritated with their question, glancing among each other and shaking their head. They argued amongst themselves for a moment, then turned back to the Imperial squad. The male who seemed to be their leader spoke.

AP-9 translated the reply as thus: "'Many years we fight our enemy. Fire kill them, but they kill twice and more fast. We call it…' I don't know what this word means, but they call it 'Mnggal-Mnggal'."

"Mnggal-Mnggal." So that was the Chiss's adversary's name. It felt weird on the lieutenant's tongue. "So... they're losing their fight. Ask-"

Before Kalvnik could finish his query, the leader spoke again, this time more harshly. His men had their hands poised at their sides in a gesture he knew all too well.

"'You stupid humans! You bring enemies with-'"

Shots rang out before the droid could finish his translation. At first, Kalvnik thought they might have been firing at them, but none of the shots hit. He and his men were too close for all of them to miss.

Then he turned around.

"Holy shit," Kalvnik pulled out his blaster as well, falling back as his men got into formation aside the Chiss.

Their enemy? More Chiss. Blackened Chiss, not unlike the corpses they'd seen in the village. They didn't have weapons, and approached the group at a stunted pace. Despite this, the scouting party seemed terrified. After a minute, Kalvnik realized why.

Both Imperial blasters and Chiss guns were firing on these intruders, yet none that fell in the snow remained there. How could that be?

One by one, they all rose again. Injured and dripping black goo, but advancing all the same. One even used its blood (goo? Liquid?) from a shot to the arm to flail at its adversaries, hitting a blue Chiss female in the face. She fell to the ground slowly, seemingly paralyzed.

Kalvnik instinctively ran over to help her, but was stopped by the leader he'd been talking to earlier. As the female cried out in anguish, she shouted in the Chiss language, a dire cry the human wished he could understand.

The Imperials were so lost. They just kept firing at the advancing foes, growing increasingly frustrated with the act's unrewarding nature.

Crying out incomprehensibly, the Chiss raced back onto their ship, using their guns to stall the approaching adversary. After a few shouts at AP-9 (who had been utterly useless in the skirmish), the droid finally translated the Chiss's words.

"'You are not safe. Come with us or die.'"

Kalvnik looked back at the black-stained Chiss. She had lunged after one of the bodies, wrestling with it in the snow. Was that common policy among this species? The lieutenant thought he saw the liquid sliding toward her mouth. Almost as if it had a mind of its own.

But that was crazy, right? There were no more sentient diseases in the galaxy. They'd been long since exterminated.

"What do we do, sir?" Gordon asked, arms shaking. His eyes kept going to the Chiss ship, but he wasn't about to move without orders.

"...Get on. We have no choice. We don't know a thing about what we're up against."

His men still looked confused, but they obeyed. As the ship doors closed, he and the Chiss leader locked eyes, each recognizing the other as the one running the show. At least, from where things on the ground were concerned.

The lieutenant gave a nod of acknowledgement. "Lieutenant Chris Kalvnik, at your service."

The leader was silent, watching Kalvnik's body language for an indication of what the man said. After a minute, the male replied, his phrase as short as Kalvnik's.

"Krav'kenitt'itaawn."

* * *

Kenitt watched the strange beings as they languished inside his scouting ship, conversing among each other in their outsider language.

They had introduced themselves as humans. History spoke of limited encounters with such creatures, but Kenitt still hadn't been sure of what to expect. The one that knew their language seemed to be made of metal, like a complex machine. And their weapons, while not too different from Chiss guns, had a sleek compactness to them that Kenitt envied. Wherever this Galactic Empire was, it had good resources.

Galactic Empire… did that mean they ruled the whole galaxy? They certainly didn't rule Csilla, and as far as Kenitt knew, no Chiss had ever encountered their on their journey off-planet. How could one claim to rule the whole galaxy if they had never been seen in this part of it? How big was the galaxy, anyway?

The man with yellow hair had said something to him after boarding the ship. Lutenchris'kalvnik, it sounded like. Kenitt had assumed it was the man's name. So humans named themselves the same way Chiss did?

Next to Lutenchris was a female human, the only one among them. She seemed to be touching a device on her ear, the thing that had been putting out the radio waves before. It must be a communications device of some kind. Was she talking to the rest of her empire?

Her face grew increasingly angry, then the fiddling stopped. No luck, then. Something about this ship cut off their radio, he guessed.

Kenitt turned away, looking at his three remaining warriors. Two flew the ship, while two others were like him: sitting about and waiting. Thinking about their next move. They had caught the intruders, as requested. The Chiss didn't know what was to be done with them. That was for the Aristocra to decide. But for now, he supposed there was no harm in leaving them to rest.

The humans looked tired, but not ravaged. It was clear they had never faced Mnggal-Mnggal before, but how could that be? Kenitt thought Mnggal-Mnggal was everywhere.

He walked up to the complex machine human, phrasing his words carefully. "You have not seen Mnggal-Mnggal before?"

Kenitt waited as the machine human translated his message to their language. The Chiss thought his question had been simple, but it required a full minute of discussion. It seemed especially ridiculous when they finally gave their answer.

"No. Tell us about Mnggal-Mnggal?"

What was Kenitt to say? Did their machine possess the ability to understand half of the danger they were now in? If this Empire had come here without knowing the danger, perhaps the disease wasn't as widespread as the Aristocra seemed to believe.

Or maybe these people were just like the Chiss: setting out into the galaxy proper for the first time with their sights on conquest. Well, they were in for a treat.

Kenitt did his best to relay as much, pausing only when the machine didn't understand. If these humans knew a place Mnggal-Mnggal hadn't touched, they should flee back to it as soon as they could. Why they weren't listening to his warning was a puzzle he could not piece together. Not until Lutenchris finally said:

"'We cannot go home. You not the only to lose your war.'"

The pursuit of something greater, only to be met with failure. Facing an insidious enemy you don't suspect, only for it to topple you at the last second. Such was the simple fate of those with ambition.

That Kenitt could understand.

* * *

 **A/N's: It took longer than expected to get a new chapter out, and for that I am sorry. I've been working on it periodically, but school has been hectic. I wanted to tack on another scene to this chapter, but I also wanted to post, so I think my idea can go with the next chapter just as well.**

 **I'm trying to add a little more action to the story, since I feel like this setting the scene stuff and introducing characters can get a little boring. Don't worry, the next chapter will be the last of the character intros for this arc. It's there that the Empire will be in contact with the Aristocra, and the objective of this arc is revealed. The Chiss and their failed bid to rule the Unknown Regions (as well as a bit more on Thrawn, though it isn't the focus) should serve as a warning to the Empire. That what they want would be difficult if they had their full strength, but nearly impossible as they are. Nearly.**

 **It's kinda fun writing about the Imperials as the heroes of this story. I make no excuses for their actions, but the moral relativity that can be invoked is something I wish the SW universe had more of. One of the reasons I like Sloane is that she's a mostly moral, mostly admirable character who unironically and intentionally serves the Empire. Not everyone who serves Team Evil is a crazy bad guy or forced into it. They have their reasons too, some of which are just as noble in their eyes as the reason the rebels fight the Empire. It doesn't make it right，but it does make it interesting.**

 **But enough of that. Who's excited for the Solo movie? I can't wait to go. I get to see it as soon as school is finished.**

 **Thanks for reading, hope you don't forget to review, and I'll see you on the far side!**

 **UPDATE: The string of reworked chapters has ended. All updates after this are truly new chapters. I also have a RL collaborator, so hopefully between the two of us, the updates will arrive sooner rather than later.**


	5. A Meeting of Leaders

Chapter Five

A Meeting of Leaders

Kalvnik shifted his weight across two feet, struggling with rising impatience. He and his crew had been stashed away on a Chiss ship for at least several hours, and no attempts to contact the Eclipse had ended in success. He suspected it was something about the ship. Not that asking about it had done any good. Either something was getting lost in translation, or the Chiss wanted them to be cut off from everyone else.

He liked to believe if the Chiss were going to kill them, they would have done so already. Or at the very least, left them with the diseased of their kind. According to them, anyone whose body was touched by the disease had no chance of recovery. Mnggal-Mnggal would take control of you even as it caused your insides to rot, forcing you to attack your own kind until there was nothing left but decay. And from the way the Chiss talked, the disease wasn't native to Csilla, but brought back by soldiers after a failed conquest. Judging by what AP-9 had translated, it was as though they believed it was everywhere.

This information was helpful, and the Grand Admiral deserved to know it right away. Kalvnik and his team would have to try again when they got off the ship. But for now, they were trapped.

"If you organics are done with your pointless sulking, I have news about where we're being taken."

"Spill," Grey spoke before Kalvnik had the chance.

"They are bringing us to their governing body, the Aristocra, who saw us the same time we saw their battle. This scouting party does not know what their rulers will do with us, but they seem to believe we'll be sent away."

That did them no good. They'd come here with the hopes of finding more than just bad news. It had been their hope that the Chiss could trade with them for resources (or at the very least, that they could be stolen from easily). The Empire knew the Chiss were too tough, and their Imperial resources too limited, to try and subjugate them, but this disease seemed to have severely weakened the supposedly proud Chiss, and with good reason.

Kalvnik could only imagine what being infected must be like. He would do whatever it took to keep him and his men from succumbing to such a fate.

"Do we have a choice in the matter?" he finally asked.

If a droid could roll their eyes, he had a feeling AP-9 would have. "Does it look like we do?"

"I merely think the Grand Admiral should be informed of what's happening, here. Perhaps she would want to meet the Chiss governing body herself, and negotiate with them about what can be done here. We weren't sent here to handle such matters."

"And we'll tell the Grand Admiral that the second we're off this ship," Grey assured him. "You heard what our navigator said: don't be surprised if she's on the line the next time we call. After everything, I'd think she wants some answers from us."

* * *

"What are you doing down there? I demand answers," Sloane shouted into her comm link the second a connection was established. "Last we saw, you were fighting Chiss, and running off with more. Start there, Lieutenant."

"The Chiss we were fighting were diseased, Grand Admiral. Csilla is struggling with a plague that causes its victims to become aggressive as they die. The plague isn't native to the planet, but the Chiss are convinced it's everywhere in this sector of space. Had the scouting party not taken us in their ship, we probably wouldn't have been able to fight the sick Chiss off." Kalvnik's report was muffled, but direct. Was he not alone while reporting? "But right now, they're taking us to their governing body. The scouts are saying they have no idea what will happen to us. We're set to appear before them at any minute."

A plague? The impression Sloane had of the conflict had been civil war at first, simply because they hadn't seen any spacecraft or other sentients besides Chiss. This would explain the corpses Kalvnik's crew had discovered.

This was dangerous. The scientists weren't done with their preliminary analysis yet, so she had no idea if the Chiss plague could harm humans. If it could, they were in serious trouble. They had barely survived war. She wasn't about to let the last vestiges of the Empire fall to disease on her watch. They had to get ahead of the issue before it got out of hand. Or anyone else found out about it.

But they couldn't just leave Csilla now. They still needed resources, and planetary scans had indicated large reserves of oil on the planet. They weren't likely to get much food from the ice planet, plague or no, but they needed that fuel. If Sloane could sit down with this governing body and get their soldiers back, maybe she could also get her hands on what the Empire needed to keep going.

"I'm coming down there. We will track your location and meet with this governing body. Your mission, as it stands, is nearly complete. Once you are aboard the Eclipse, debrief with Vice Admiral Canady. Leave AP-9 with me."

"Yes, Grand Admiral. We look forward to your arrival. We-" the lieutenant was cut off by shouting. No way those words were Basic. "-have to go."

Sloane stood right away, ready to call for a guard when Brendol Hux stopped her in her tracks. "How long have you been here?"

"This fine scientist was waiting to tell you of his discoveries while you were on the comm link. We were… conversing." As usual, Brendol's response gave Sloane nothing but a rise out of her. For the first time, her eyes landed on the unassuming middle-aged man in a labcoat.

"Josef Sieve, Grand Admiral," the scientist offered by way of introduction. He held his hand out to shake, which Sloane squeezed, making him wince. She really defined poised aggression nowadays.

"You weren't thinking of going down to Csilla's surface by yourself, now were you?" Brendol had an agenda in mind with these questions. Sloane could sense it.

She refused to play into it. "Of course not. That would be nonsense. I will naturally be taking a guard along. A grown one."

The redhead chuckled. "That's not what I was after. Are you sure you should be speaking for all Imperials in front of foreign governments, Grand Admiral?"

"Am I not the leader most qualified for the position, Hux?" Surely he wasn't implying _he_ should be brought along for the trip.

"It's just that… some individuals on this ship would be more comfortable if the Empire remained more just than a military organization. I was discussing the matter with some civilians of former prominence-" _Those merchants from earlier_ , Sloane thought. "-and they haven't been comfortable with your leadership thus far."

"And just what are you implying? Why would a military man be concerned about a lack of civilian leadership?"

"Oh, _I'm_ not. I just figured you would want threats of mutiny to be the last thing on your mind at this critical juncture."

The nerve of this Hux! Whatever his game was, Sloane wasn't about to play. She did _not_ have time for this. "Who said there was any concern about mutiny on this ship?"

"No one. I just think some people would be comforted by the inclusion of non-military officials in decisions and talks going forward." From that statement on, Sloane came to the conclusion that this wasn't about Brendol. No doubt he received some form of benefit from the situation, but really, he was just here to jockey for somebody.

And Sloane was determined to subvert him. She wasn't about to let anyone get away with questioning her leadership. ...But she also wasn't about to project an image of outrage or insecurity. That would only make the prophecy self-fulfilling.

So Sloane pretended to consider his request, though she was determined to circumvent the core of it. "What sort of civilian would have any interest in visiting a potentially hostile alien planet in unknown space?" She wanted him to name his nominee so they could get to the heart of this matter.

"...well, the scientists would," Sieve spoke out, interrupting Sloane and Brendol's banter. The small man's presence was so unassuming, Sloane had almost forgotten he was there.

So had Brendol, it seemed. He shook his head. "You researchers and your need for discoveries. I admire it, but I would never do it."

It was in that moment a thought occurred to the grand admiral. This was perfect. "Fine. If the non-soldiers of our ship are feeling idle enough to consider suicide, I will implement tasks beyond what their current roles entail to ensure they keep their minds occupied. I will start by inviting our Imperial researchers on a first person tour of Csilla. We can go together to collect different types of information."

Brendol didn't look as surprised as Sloane had been hoping for, but he always had a good poker face. "Well. Whatever you insist, Grand Admiral."

Sieve looked positively giddy at the prospect. "Oh, no doubt my colleagues are far too fearful. Our initial studies pose a grim analysis, indeed. But how will our knowledge ever advance without those who are poised to take risks, hm? How will Imperial technology remain light years ahead of all others if we-"

"Agreed." She hoped she didn't regret her choice. "I will discuss new jobs for some of the ship's occupants at a later time. Until then, Mr. Sieve will come with me."

Sloane walked with purpose towards the designated soldiers' barracks, intent on picking a guard. She was so confident in what she just did that she missed the look shared behind her.

* * *

Arin stared blankly into the eyes of the dark female human before her. Even without a language barrier between them, there was no way the Chiss were comprehending what was being said.

Sure, there were parts that made sense. "I am the Empire leader", "Thank you for returning my soldiers", and "Your disease be very frightening". But after that, when the white suited woman began asking for oil? Had she not been listening to anything the Aristocra had said? Could she not understand them, as they could not her?

Arin had heard the scouting party's report. She knew Kenitt personally. She even agreed with him about the potential that these humans presented to the Ascendancy as an organization… if they could shake off the chains of resignation. Arin was more hopeful than anyone in that regard. But working with the humans required a mutual understanding, and it was that very task that was proving difficult.

Her father repeated himself, simplifying his language for the occasion. "We have no oil for you. We need ours. Mnggal Mnggal has the rest."

The machine companion turned to the woman calling herself Ra'slone, translating what Arin's father had said into slow, drawn out syllables. Ra'slone snapped something back, shocking her male human companion. He too was dressed in white, though only with a thin outer cloth. Surrounding them were ten humans in white armor, their guns sleeker than anything Arin had seen before. The two central humans seemed to argue for a brief moment. The woman had the last word, however, so Arin guessed she had won.

The machine let out something akin to a sigh, then turned back to the Aristocra. "We will help you fight Mnggal Mnggal if you let us take oil from Csilla. Help us, and you will be our ally as we…" the machine trailed off, thinking. "As we take the galaxy for ourselves."

Outraged whispers took to the air as soon as the last words were said. Almost everyone in the Aristocra scoffed upon hearing the humans' request. "You pitiful humans will not take the galaxy. The Chiss are the galaxy's proudest warriors. We were stronger than your kind will ever be, and even we were brought to our knees. You too will go extinct, along with your Empire. That is our fate. It is your fate as well."

"That is not true!" Arin spoke up for the first time this meeting. "You saw what happened in our last battle! Fire works against Mnggal Mnggal! The Empire has ships. According to this leader, they have people. If we fought with allies, we could burn Mnggal Mnggal off the face of our planet."

"Ari'nitan'colgrana! It is not your place to speak." She was silenced immediately. "Only members of the counsel may address our guests directly."

Arin slumped in her chair, fuming. Why was she even here, then? Still, she listened from then on out.

"It is true your warriors are great," the machine was back to translating. This time, it held a sort of circular device in its hand. "We in the Empire once knew a Chiss. May you see… Mitth'raw'nuruodo."

A blue projection of a Chiss spouted from the circular device. When the Aristocra recognized who it was, their voices only became angrier.

"The traitor wears your clothing?! He abandoned us for your Empire, and for what? Where is he now?"

Arin, for her part, was fascinated by the image. She knew the story of Mitth'raw'nuruodo all too well. He had been a proud Chiss warrior who had set out searching for allies in the early days of Mnggal Mnggal's infection. But after going years without so much as contacting his home planet, and as conditions on Csilla continued to deteriorate, the Aristocra gave up hope for his return. They declared him a traitor who had fled their cause for safer skies.

Which is why Arin made sure she was listening when the machine continued to speak. "Thrawn served the Empire well, and wanted to return to Csilla one day. But he was caught up in a war of our own, and is believed to be dead in battle. It is his cause that we know your language, and that we are here. We believe you can fight as he did. He joined us. Will you not?"

"He abandoned us!" Several Chiss insisted. "He left to fight your battles while we faced our slow death."

Arin didn't quite agree. In a way, hadn't Thrawn done exactly what they'd wanted him to? Sure, he'd taken a long time, but better late than never. So long as the Chiss were not extinct, there was hope for their future. So long as the Chiss believed that, they could continue to fight on.

At its core, this was hope. A hope the Aristocra had forgotten how to see. But perhaps the Empire had not.

The Chiss female was beginning to like Ra'slone. But it was not Ra'slone who responded to their allegations, but the man. "Every disease has a cure, Chiss people. I will find it and study it and ensure it can infect no more."

For the first time in forever, the Aristocra laughed as one. "Mnggal Mnggal is more than a mere disease! It is a curse of the darkness, brought about by the magic of legend and the master who wields it."

"Tell me, dumb human: when is the last time you have seen a mere plague turn a whole planet to slime? When the Ascendancy first saw Mnggal Mnggal, it was on Mugg Fallow. Mugg Fallow was once a paradise. Now it is a sea of black."

"Go now, humans of Empire. We will hear no more of your boasts. Be grateful you may leave with your lives intact, and bother us no more."

Now Ra'slone was angry. She stepped in front of the machine, knocking the projection of Thrawn to the ground. Her words came loud, faster than the humans had spoken before. It was a struggle for her translating machine to keep up with what she was saying. "Dumb? You call us humans idiots, while you sit here ripe for hunting kill? Some strong warriors you are, if you will let an invader have your planet without so great as opposition. Would you rather die off than have hope? I have offered you a chance to burn your enemy away, all for oil in return.

"While you laugh and argue, your people die off. Being the last to die will not keep you Chiss from going extinct. You as government fails you. I am sorry to everyone ruled."

The man was stuttering, bumbling with words no Chiss could hear. He didn't seem to have any authority, so why was he here? That was one thing Arin did not understand.

Ra'slone did not wait for a response from the Aristocra. Instead, she turned her back to the congregation, guards circling them in tight formation as they marched out of the city center.

Just as Arin suspected, the Aristocra erupted into another round of chaos after the humans left. She used the disorder as cover to slip away to where the humans had gone.

Maybe Kenitt's friends were right, even if he himself was hesitant. Maybe it was time for the Aristocra to end, and for the survivors who wished to live to rebel. Before now, the idea of civil war had always been squashed. It was seen as a suicidal idea, a way to only make things worse. But the introduction of humans to the mix had given the talk ammunition, enough that Arin believed the movement would happen with or without her support.

She didn't want to be seen as a remnant of the old order. She had already lost her mother to the disease, and her father to himself. She had to catch the humans as allies before her rivals did. If she brought them to the Chiss still willing to fight, it would guarantee her power over the new day.

And if she failed? At least she could die saying she did something. That was more than some of her comrades could say.

"Wait!" She nearly ran into an armored guard on her approach. It pointed its gun at her, and she threw her hands up. "I come in peace, Empire. I want to say-"

Ra'slone was still angry in the voice. Not that it came through in the translation. "What do you want to say?"

"There are Chiss who agree with you. Chiss who will leave the Aristocra to join you. Give me a chance. I can bring them to you."

Pause. Murmurs. Then finally, a reply.

"Take us to them."

* * *

 **A/N's: First off, I apologize for taking so long to update. This story had to go through a restructuring before we were ready to continue, and because so much of this chapter is merely setup for future chapters, it was hard to achieve a balance of what should be told now and what ought to be saved for later. I'm sure that was noticeable here.**

 **Still, there are two chapters left in this arc. Once those two are written and published, I will tell you all more about the choices for arcs going forward. I have several that I can write, but two happen at the same time after this first one, and it doesn't really matter which one is written first. So I'll be turning that choice over to readers when it comes.**

 **Hope you enjoyed the update, thanks for reading, and I'll see you on the far side!**


	6. Sunset Alliance

Chapter Six

Sunset Alliance

 **Warning: The following contains several spoilers for both _Thrawn_ and _Thrawn: Alliances._ Expect chapters from here on out to reference both novels heavily. If you have not read either, it is recommended that you do. Beyond being helpful to this story, both are truly wonderful books.**

"Oh, it's _beautiful_ ," Sieve had whispered to himself upon first viewing of Chiss corpses. A few of his colleagues (none of whom he knew personally) stared, but he'd been too engrossed to notice. Instead, he'd ripped out his datapad and typed furiously.

Their decaying alien bodies, their thick blue skin succumbing, their once-bright red eyes gone dead… this disease wasn't just any illness. Not according to his observations. No, it was a _parasite_ , one which fed on organic matter. Looking at the way it contorted itself over the host, watching how it targeted the nerves and brain area, Sieve had concluded within the hour that the creature undoubtedly took control of its host's body even as it fed. Only when there was too little left to control would the parasite lay down to merely consume.

Sieve was delighted when updated reports came back and his theories were confirmed. Such a design indicated great intelligence on the parasite's part. There was something almost artistic about the way it must have moved to achieve such a pattern on its host. If only the field crew had sent back video. Perhaps he could've watched it move in real time.

By then, Sieve had been vibrating in excitement. His vision blurred and sharpened all at once. The last time he'd seen a plague so well crafted and clever, it had been buried in the files connected to Project Blackwing. The aging scientist flew out of his chair, a bounce to his step setting in.

He'd _had_ to get his hands on some samples. He'd _needed_ a way down to the surface. And for a few extra lab tests on some, ah... controversial subjects in exchange, the former Commandant Hux had helped him do just that. It was a deal the scientist had made in an instant.

And now here he was. Planet Csilla. So close to what he desired, but kept away from his prize by the arbitrary maneuvers of politics.

"Keep up, Doctor." Sloane's words held an unforgiving bite. Perhaps she was cold from walking around so long in the Chiss city. Sieve, had least, had been smart enough to bring an outer-coat up to the Aristocra chamber door. "I want this meeting over before dark."

The party of humans had been following a Chiss woman for the past fifteen minutes. Her attire and demeanor suggested pomposity, but Sieve wasn't even sure he recognized her from the council meeting. She had taken them to the edge of their city into what looked like an abandoned shipyard. Despite the lack of any other life around, the alien had yet to slow her march.

Sieve did his best to obey the grand admiral, though his joints now protested. "AP-9, could you ask this female where they keep their sick? I brought along a few test tubes with me and thought that I could-"

"Not now." The grand admiral cut him off. "I was going to oblige you, but I'm afraid we won't have time. Sorry, Doctor."

So this was the problem with being brought along out of appeasement: it meant no research actually got done. Sieve sighed, hanging his head. A breeze hit, and his hands were forced to retreat into his coat.

"I'd rather not go near any of the victims, myself," AP-9 added. "Seeing those corpses back at the town was harrowing enough. Especially for a droid with my programming!"

Above everything else holding the field of science back, what Sieve despised most were comments like those. People (and droids) could be so... soft stomached, so _queasy_ about the unknown that they would back away from progress. Progress! How could this great empire ever advance into the world beyond if it stayed beholden to such frail sensibilities? The time had come to let old reservations go. Sieve would not have come on this journey if he did not believe that was true.

Well, that and he'd face some degree of inquiry into his previous research, should the New Republic have gotten a hold of it. Instead, Sieve had brought everything he could with him on his journey into the Unknown Regions, continuing life as normally as he could aboard the _Eclipse_. Being with all his notes and tools gave Sieve a cheer that few other passengers possessed in these days.

Caught in his thoughts as he was, Sieve failed to notice when the rest of his group had stopped walking and ran right into the Stormtrooper in front of him. "Gah! Pardon me, soldier. My, where did the rest of this Chiss party come from?"

"Quiet, you," came the snap of the grand admiral. "You shouldn't have spoken at all before the Aristocra today."

"I-I will be silent from now on, Grand Admiral." So silent, Sieve hoped nobody would notice if he slipped away in search of a morgue.

* * *

Bringing that scientist along had turned into a lot more trouble than it was worth. Why in the stars did an old man need to be babysat? What about 'no samples this time' did he not understand? Could she not focus on her meeting without distractions? Josef Sieve was now being restrained by a member of their guard. He was none too pleased with the development.

"Back to your war with the Grysks," Sloane wanted to make sure she had the story straight. "You were fighting them, they had stolen your children-"

The woman from the Aristocra protested. AP-9 translated her objection as: "Not mere children. Our Skywalkers. Their third sight makes them great for pilot's help."

Sloane blinked. Now there was a name she wasn't expecting to hear in this sector of space. It must mean something different in these parts. "Yes, I see. You say the Grysks were the ones keeping our forces out of these regions?" She would have to do a database search on these Grysks later. Nothing the Chiss had told her gave any indication about who these aliens were. "They might be the cause of our ships' disturbances?"

A sharp nod. This time from a man named… syllables containing the shorter name of Kenitt. If Sloane remembered, this was the man who'd rescued her men. "They had many devices set up along the borders of our battlefields. No flanking, no calling for help. Until then, so the tales go-"

"This was several years ago that Mnggal-Mnggal appeared. It first took Grysk worlds, then ours." Arin scrunched her steep nose. "The Aristocra say the evil Grysk threw Chiss traitor bodies back at loyal soldiers. The traitors were infected to betray one more time."

"And in time, you lost all contact with your colony worlds," Sloane summarized. "You stopped interplanetary travel, but accidentally brought the disease back with you."

"Yes. It is our only comfort that the Grysk suffer like us."

Sloane stiffened at the bitterness of those words. She could not stop her mind from placing herself in Arin's situation. It was all too easy to imagine such a disease taking hold in the height of the civil war. What was the point of domination if every race was on the brink of extinction?

Such thoughts only steeled her resolve. "We will fight Mnggal-Mnggal. Just like you fought the Grysk. This enemy fights with different weapons, yes, but it is still an enemy that can be fought. And you have already discovered its weakness." Sloane pointed to the small campfire lighting their alcove. They were situated behind an old warship of some kind. "My Empire has flamethrowers."

"You plan to toss flame at the enemy? In your hands?"

"What? No." Then Sloane realized the problem. Translation had been going so well up to that point. "We have guns that shoot not blasts of energy, but fire. We will shoot Mnggal-Mnggal with flame and retake the oil fields."

The Chiss (a mid-sized group which Arin seemed to lead) whispered among themselves, then turned back. "Will that not be dangerous? You may burn the oil away as well."

"That is a fear. We will need help in knowing which areas to target." Sloane was careful with her words. "We seek an alliance with your people. That is what we wanted to ask your Aristocra. Your people know this area of space. Not just your planet, but your former colony worlds. Lost trading outposts. Hospitable moons. All of it."

"And it all has been lost to Mnggal-Mnggal. I am sorry, Ra'sloane."

But just as Arin said that, Kenitt intervened. Sloane listened with interest as AP-9 translated their dispute as: "or so the Aristocra tells us. But none of us have left Csilla in several years. We must believe there is a place we are free."

"You want us to fly off with these humans?"

"You want to stay on Csilla? You want to die of disease or no food? Chiss will not have more child in these days. Our race will be gone if we do not try." He paused, a new fire to his eyes. Or so Sloane thought. Chiss facial expressions were less pronounced than those of humans. "I thought you were here because you agreed. Are you still in the step of your father, Ari'nitan'colgrana?"

A defensive stance, followed by a glance at the spectating humans. Arin balked, waving the conversation away.

The pair had revealed more than they'd meant to in their brief argument. Interesting.

A third Chiss, one who had not spoken before, entered the fray. "Our group wishes to work with your Empire. We are soldiers. The Aristocra has been made weak. We follow them no more. It is hard for us to say, for Chiss are loyal. But we are made desperate."

"And we will accept your help. Our main ship is large, meant to carry far more than what is currently on board. Tomorrow, we will coordinate an attack so that we may refuel. After that, any healthy Chiss who wishes to may bring their ships, food, or weapons along with us."

Arin shook her head. "We will not all come with you. Many of us want to save Csilla even still."

"Don't you get it?" Sieve burst out for the first time since being caught. Sloane couldn't tell if he looked exasperated or delighted. "You can rid your planet of Mnggal-Mnggal by leaving in our ship. If your disease has no life left to feed on, it will die out on this planet. The best course of action is to let it rot away."

He just had to stick his nose in, didn't he? "I understand your logic, Doctor, but we do not want to leave valuable resources behind with no one to maintain the wells. We may oft find ourselves refueling here in the future."

"As you said, our ship is mostly empty. We can store enough fuel in tanks to last us for months on end."

"How long do you think our endeavors are going to last, Doctor? Only a few months?"

With that comment, his face fell. It seems the reality of their situation had yet to set in for most people. The Empire would not be returning to their homes within the year. Depending on how much support their cause still had in New Republic territory, their military would take at least a decade to rebuild back to even a marginally acceptable size. Longer, if Sloane could not get this plague problem under control.

AP-9 had the sense to not translate their last remarks to the Chiss, thankfully. Sloane nodded at him when she was ready to continue. "We will arm any remaining Chiss we can trust with the necessary weapons. We may have to recycle items of your dead to make more."

A series of nodding followed her words. "We understand the necessity, Ra'sloane."

So this group, at least, knew when to let go of tradition and sentiment. That would help them moving forward. Humans could use more of that attitude. As could the Aristocra, if her meeting with them were any indication. Though, if she were being fair, perhaps they were less stubborn than resigned.

Speaking of recycled items… that was one thing Sloane could put civilians to work doing, if Hux's statements were correct. She could use them to construct more flamethrowers and armor at least until they conquered another people to do it for them. In addition, they would have to see to cultivating food while on the _Eclipse_ before they found a reliable base, that way her empire would not starve when rations ran out. Maybe she could ask the scientists aboard if they-

But alas. She was getting ahead of herself.

Sloane turned to the setting sun, shivering despite the body heat surrounding her. "I will return to my people above and tell them of what we have discussed here. Meet us here again at dawn. Bring as many skilled forces as you can. I will do the same."

A final nod, first from Kenitt, then Arin, then the rest. "We will do as you say. We trust you to do the same."

Sloane wasn't sure she would call this alliance a trusting one. More like a bond out of necessity.

* * *

"I'm telling you all. Joining forces with the remnants of the Chiss Ascendancy is our best opportunity at seizing their planet's resources." Sloane addressed the crowd gathered around her bridge. Her words were being played in all parts of the ship for anyone who wasn't invited out.

"What? Just because we could trust Grand Admiral Thrawn-"

"-as _if_ we could even trust Grand Admiral Thrawn. His 'disappearance' was quite timely, if you ask me."

"-you want us to band together with a group of battered aliens? You want them on our ship with us?" The protesting woman wore a moff's cape, though Sloane was quite confident she'd never seen this moff before. "Why do we even need to ask to take from their oil fields? They clearly can't defend them!"

All this chatter and protest… one would think they hadn't all ceded exclusive leadership to Sloane before ever leaving the rendezvous point. Sloane had made it clear when she'd taken over: anyone who did not truly want to come on this journey should leave while they had the chance. No one had taken the chance, nor had they known what they were agreeing to implicitly by the nature of staying aboard.

It seemed Sloane would have to remind them. "If it were only oil we were after, I might agree. But we need navigators, people who know this galaxy in areas where our data doesn't. People who might know where we can get the resources we need to get started, and how to communicate with local populations. Right now, all they need are flamethrowers and a reason to try again. If we don't give those things to them now, I have no doubts those Chiss will figure it out for themselves. Either we band together as allies for now, or we are competitors from the outset."

Sloane paused. When she didn't receive an immediate response, she turned to her right."Vice Admiral Canady."

"Yes, Grand Admiral?"

"The briefing you received from our search team. Have the relevant details shared with a force of fifty ground soldiers. Keep the numbers modest but the skill level high. Have more on support networks and in TIEs. We will bring them into Csillan atmosphere so they may back up the Chiss airships."

"Yes, Grand Admiral. Your negotiations with the Chiss Aristocra were sufficient in coordinating our plan of attack?"

"My negotiations with the Aristocra were a waste of time. My discussions with those willing to fight were more than enough to begin drawing plans. We rest and strategize tonight, then meet their forces at dawn to put the final pieces together."

Murmurs, some she could make out. "We're working with rebels?"

Sloane saw it best to address their concerns directly. "We are working to install a useful ally who is ingratiated to us. If the Chiss's governing body has given up on its people, we will set the example for a government that will not. This part of the galaxy brings its own chaos, but with us we bring a new force of order to this uncivilized realm."

And before she forgot. "Starting tomorrow, all civilian residents aboard the Eclipse will end their practice in idleness and be assigned a new occupation to the benefit of this order. Attempts will be made to match each individual to a job similar to their previous line of work, but training shall be provided in the cases where that is not possible. Anyone who does not comply with the new standards will be denied food for however long it is deemed appropriate.

"Any soldiers not participating in tomorrow's battle will be put to work collecting and storing fuel for the ship to refuel with. When refueling processes have finished, more shall be stored away in cargo areas for future use. Anyone left without a job to do in two days' time must be in contact with either myself or Vice Admiral Canady. From here on out, all idle behavior is against our rule of law." She waited to see if anyone would try objecting to her orders again. Luckily, these Imperials were trained better than that. "That is all. You may disperse."

As everyone was leaving, Graven took his time in moving toward the grand admiral, leaning down to whisper in her ear. "Grand Admiral. A word."

Sloane took a moment to consider, then motioned the old pilot along. They walked into her declared office before she permitted Graven to speak again. "What is it?"

"You don't know how we were able to find Csilla, do you?"

Sloane took a step back, raising an eyebrow. "What do you mean, pilot? Grand Admiral Thrawn helped the Empire fill in many of the chart paths existing in the Unknown Regions. I imagine his home planet came up in one of those sessions."

"It did not. Thrawn never revealed the location of his home to the Empire. But he did tell his most trusted aide. Spies tracked Commander Vanto from the moment he took his extended leave onwards. I didn't discover this information until my crew and I were already out here."

Sloane tilted her head, unsure of how to react. And not just because this was the longest string of words Graven had given voice to in years. "Why are you telling me this, pilot?"

"After the spies followed Vanto out to this point, they lost him in the scene of a great battle. Then the logs the spies left behind stop. We -the rest of the original crew and I- thought you might have found more humans down there. Did you?"

She took a moment to process, then shook her head. "No, we didn't. None of the Chiss mentioned meeting other humans, either."

Graven let a swear word loose. "Then they're dead too, huh? Just like the rest of my guys."

"You never told us. What happened to most of your crew?"

And in that moment, the tight lipped pilot was back. "...Long story. Let's focus on tomorrow."

* * *

 **A/N's: I know, long break between chapters. But in case it isn't evident, I got some reading done since I last updated. Not just more SW books, but also some history I want to use for inspiration. Now I feel a lot more prepared to tackle this story and its future arcs.**

 **Speaking of future arcs... fitting Sieve's character introduction was hard to do, but he and his actions here are vital (or should I say, vial?) to the next arc of the story. That next arc is also the reason I featured little Armitage there in the first chapter. I haven't forgotten about him.**

 **So yes. Sorry for the long absence, may not update much in the nest month, but trust me to get back to this once the summer comes along. Then this project and I (plus another long term in another fandom) will be inseparable. Until then, thanks for reading, don't forget to review, and I'll see you on the far side!**


	7. The Battle of Csilla, Part 1

Chapter Seven

The Battle of Csilla, Part 1

Back when Moden Canady had been following the exploits of Grand Admiral Thrawn, he'd always had the same question in mind. Was the alien's tactical genius unique to himself or was it a shared trait among his people? Now, as the vice admiral organized his forces among Chiss military remnants, Canady finally had his answer.

The former.

"No, we can't only bring flamethrowers into battle with nothing to put the fire out. I understand carrying water will be heavy, but we can't risk the fire spreading to undesirable locations. If we light the fuel reserves, it's over for all of us!"

AP-9, relieved to be one of the droids left on the _Eclipse_ 's bridge, translated Canady's message to the ground force. The young Chiss male frowned, firing back with all the strung together syllables he could fit in a single breath. The way the holo projection presented him, he appeared to have spit on the comms.

AP-9 repeated the alien's response in Basic: "'We need not to melt snow for carry. There will be sufficient ice in the area to use against stray fire.'"

"'Kenitt, please.'" A female stepped into range. The one Grand Admiral Sloane had spoken of, Canady assumed. Arin-something, was it? She turned to face Canady, voice carrying an air of authority. "'We will have support behind each flame soldier ready to avoid great damage. We are blessed with clear air and skies of clouds today.'"

The Empire didn't have enough flamethrowers on hand for every human they'd send down to the surface, and neither did the participating Chiss. Instead the two races had divided into interspecial squadrons made of a translator droid (a makeshift one that had copied language data from AP-9), a human communications protector to guard the droid, a Chiss ground navigator, and three troopers/Chiss rebels, each of the three armed with the only known device capable of destroying the enemy. Thinking about it now, Canady supposed the protector and the navigator could double as fire regulators. But even that idea had the potential to backfire.

The reason cloudy skies (as the female had pointed out) would be important was to disguise the three scouting ships the Chiss had commandeered for the mission. Above them were fifteen TIE Fighters, released directly from the _Eclipse_ into the Csillan sky. This way, if the enemy were smart enough to check for air support, it would be hidden from view. All the while, the scouting ships would warn the ground troops of advancing forces as they approached the oil fields. Once the ground force reached the oil fields, they would secure perimeter around the area and the TIEs would come down to firebomb advancing foes _before_ such shots would be close enough to cause an ignition. While the enemy was held off, Grand Admiral Sloane's team would begin resource extraction.

It was as solid a plan as was to be made under the circumstances. Canady had only two misgivings. One: flamethrowers did not make for precise weaponry. A stray fire could grow too large and engulf his forces. Two: the Chiss may not be able to keep up with his soldiers. For all of Sloane's assurances, Canady did not trust this… unknown race. Sadly, their knowledge of Csilla and recent enemy movements provided information the Empire may have taken whole cycles to gather. As it was, the _Eclipse_ 's fuel reserves were running dangerously low. Canady had no intention of allowing the ship to land on a hostile world.

"Yes, you are… correct. We must, however, remain vigilant, lest the fickleness of weather turn against us. Lieutenant," Canady frowned as Kalvnik stepped into view, "is everyone in position to advance?"

"We have received confirmation from all fifteen squadrons, Vice Admiral. They shall begin to advance when Arin and I give the signal."

Canady nodded. "Very well. I shall confer with the TIE pilots and the Grand Admiral's team. You will be given orders on when to begin the attack. I am entrusting you to lead from the ground, though I will remain observant."

"Yes, sir." And with that, the communication channel went silent.

But not for long. As soon as alien lifeforms left Canady's field of vision, he tuned in to a slightly different frequency. "TIE Fighters, are you all in proper position over the ground teams?"

"If the droid's beacons are to be trusted, yes, I'm directly above mine."

"Yes, Vice Admiral."

"Ready, Vice Admiral."

"Yes, sir."  
And several repeats of the above. Once Canady counted fifteen, he addressed the pilots by repeating when they were to begin and to keep him in contact at all times. Upon receiving further confirmation from all TIEs, Canady shut that channel off as well. He took a deep breath, then paused.

Should he be more worried than he was at the moment? Ironic as it seemed, preparations for battle had calmed Canady's nerves better than anything else in the past month. From fleeing the New Republic's forces to squabbling on board the _Eclipse_ , Canady had always been on edge. Always landing in situations that were out of his depth.

But in battle today? A battle with a clear enemy and obvious objective? Now that was something he could work towards. It was something he'd done a hundred times for his late Emperor, and something he could do a hundred more times if their work were to breathe new life to the Empire.

Canady could only hope they came back better than a zombie of the original.

* * *

"Thank you, Vice Admiral. My team will begin entry the second yours secures the extraction area. You are permitted to begin engagement." Sloane ended her personal call with Canady, then turned to the ships being loaded on the hangar bay.

The _Eclipse_ hadn't come equipped with many transport ships, nor would escape pods be sufficient for the mission, so Sloane had been forced to make do with some of the ships Imperials had arrived in. Using the last of the _Eclipse_ 's reserves to power each ship back up, military pilots were taken to their craft with a team of troopers and plenty of liquid containers. Each ship had the same orders: stay in the secured area, pump fuel until all barrels were filled, then take off. When all ships finished collection, they and the Chiss scouting ships were to drop back down and collect Canady's ground crew for evacuation.

While extraction was, in theory, the easier job, the importance of the mission had convinced Sloane to oversee it personally. She would have to trust Canady enough to let him set up a basic perimeter. Here's to hoping that wasn't a mistake.

Though Canady and Sloane claimed otherwise, their time on the _Eclipse_ was the first the two had met. By the time Canady's crew arrived, he was in charge of the largest single group of personnel. In order to convince him to support her declaration of leadership, Sloane had promised to make him her second in command. Thanks to that move, she was able to ascend unquestioned. The alliance had been beneficial, but there was no guarantee it would be permanent.

And then there was the matter of the Chiss rebels. They were not the Chiss Ascendancy Thrawn had supposedly left behind when he joined Imperial ranks. They weren't even supported by their governing body. And yet, they played a vital part in the mission at hand.

Bringing these forces together may be the ingredients she required for a victory… or the very recipe necessary to bring more defeat. Only time would tell as Canady's team began their advance.

"All ships ready for launch to the Csillan surface, Grand Admiral. When will we receive our landing coordinates?"

"When Vice Admiral Canady has secured our area of interest. Until then, circle in the upper atmosphere. Do not interfere with the TIEs. Watch for them and Chiss ships while descending."

"Yes, Grand Admiral."

It was a smaller army than Sloane had worked with in a long time, but it would have to be enough. With this opening move, she will have begun the war for the Unknown Regions.

* * *

Viveen Grey had been there when the scouting party encountered the enemy. She remembered how confused and disgusted she'd felt when she saw the walking dead, black ooze dripping off corpses as the fallen lumbered forward. She remembered her horror as no number of blaster shots had been enough to keep the enemy down.

It hadn't been enough to prepare her for this.

"I've been hit!" Dunn called out, falling back as a now-disembodied hand landed on his chest plate. His attacker fumbled to her left, falling over in a sea of flames. The sweet, rotting scent from earlier assaulted her senses as Grey jumped to stay back.

"Calm down, Dunn. As long as it can't penetrate your armor, you shouldn-" Grey broke off, lunging forward to burn her target from head to toe. Her foot swung back as she avoided the falling heap, nearly kicking Dunn in the shin. "It will be treated when we get back to the ship."

The third "flame soldier", a Chiss male, shook his head. He turned his own weapon to the lowest setting and placed it over the black stain. Dunn screamed, expecting to feel extreme heat. Grey wanted to interject, but more were coming. Someone had to pay attention on this squad.

They hadn't marched ten steps towards the oil field when the enemy was spotted. First in the distance, hobbling along at a slower than walking pace. Grey had forced her team to run, ducking in the hopes they wouldn't be spotted. Yet as soon a they'd made their turn towards the rig, their foes were right on top of them. Now Grey and Dunn were falling over each other, trying not to burn the living Chiss on top of the dead.

"More coming on your right!" Gordon, their assigned protector, called out. "Looks like a second wave."

Grey turned with her weapon pointed, shooting fire out at maximum distance. She watched as her spray caught the first foe, then spread onto the second, then the third…

Before she knew it, all seven bodies were falling over each other in a massive bonfire. The snow sizzled as they clumped to the ground, sending up a wall of steam. Boils formed on their limbs as the corpses continued to reach for her team.

Grey hopped back once again, angling away from her previous opponent. "Keep moving!"

"Which way?" Gordan yelled to their navigator, who grunted. A point to the left was all they needed.

"Maintain a steady pace. Watch for anything black on the ground, especially near the burnt areas." Grey turned her back on the flames, already falling back from its encounter with snow. It seemed there was nothing tinder-like beneath, meaning the fire had nothing else to feed on when it finished its mission.

When Grey went to sleep, she wondered which image would haunt her dreams the most. Would it be the sight of dripping, decomposing bodies lumbering towards her... or the view of those very bodies burned to their blackened bones? Whichever it was, the smell was bound to linger for cycles on end.

"Up ahead! There must be a dozen of them."

Dunn and Grey fired as one, their flame streams crossing as they warned their foes away. But the advancing corpses weren't deterred. Their faces showed no emotion as they tripped into the firing line, sending more steam over Grey's helmet as they toppled. For the briefest of moments, Grey couldn't see a thing. Then she felt something at her foot.

"Get it off!" she shrieked, leaping square into their navigator as she shot more at the burning heap. She made Gordon wait until there were no signs of movement before he threw more snow at the pile. The team still needed to march in this direction.

They'd started in front of a range of hills, and now were walking between low inclines on their way through the pass. On the other side lay their objective. Once there, Grey and her fellow flame-shooters would guard the northeast sector of the field. She could see the abandoned rig in the distance, but not her target location.

Where were all these bodies coming from, anyway? None of them looked very old, but it was possible they'd been buried under snow, preventing more rapid decomposition. That, or the disease had a way of animating its host even as it fed. Grey didn't much want to consider the latter prospect.

"I'll stay in the front. You two take the back, left and right. I don't want any surprises." The droid repeated her order.

Dunn and his Chiss partner adjusted to follow Grey's orders. Gordon, the navigator, and their droid stayed inside the triangle, made fearful by their lack of weapons. Gordon still had his blaster from before, but it wasn't likely to do any good.

Now that she had a moment of quiet, Grey scanned the area around her. She could see smoke and steam flying up from where the other squadrons had passed through. No way would they be able to hide from the enemy now. Anyone could catch up to them if they just followed the paths of destruction.

Strategically speaking, splitting up was to prevent the enemy from swarming any one squad. The Imperials hadn't ever seen Mnggal Mnggal in a large group, but their Chiss allies had been quick to assure them such a thing was possible. The blue humanoids had recounted horror stories at that meeting. According to them, even soldiers who started on the Ascendancy's side had switched by the end of the battle, only adding to the enemy's numbers. The very idea made Grey internally shudder.

Paranoid, Grey looked back down at her armored leg. Other than a few flecks of snow, nothing seemed out of place. The corporal didn't feel any different either. Maybe she really was okay.

Grey's team encountered a few more isolated enemies on their way over, but none in groups larger than three. Gordon thought he'd seen lifeforms running in the distance, but they all seemed to be moving away from her group. After all the excitement they'd experienced at the beginning, silence was its own type of threat.

What could Gordon have seen? Other squadrons? Remaining wildlife? Did a disease like Mnggal Mnggal have the strategic capacity to even order a retreat? The questions swam in Grey's head, growing insistent as her team made the trek.

After a minute, Gordon gave her concerns a voice. "This is odd. I thought we would be doing more than this."

"Maybe those corpses realized they can't handle the heat. Ran away while they had the chance," Dunn speculated, a small smirk in his tone.

Their droid translated the exchange to the two Chiss males, who both frowned. The navigator spoke, giving a reply to the effect of: "'I suspect something else. Something worse.'"

"Like a trap?" Grey asked. Their navigator listened to the droid, then nodded at her.

Grey raised her weapon once more. "Then we must proceed ready for anything. Walk with caution, and watch our immediate area at all times."

But nothing ever came. Grey's team was the second to each its target spot at the edge of the oil field. The rig stood tall on the south side, rusted from disuse. When she asked how long this spot had been abandoned, she learned it had been over a month.

"Let's spread out. Gordon, behind me. You, behind your friend," Grey pointed to the navigator, gesturing at the Chiss warrior, "and K3, behind Dunn. We are in charge of this ten yards of perimeter."

The oil well wasn't a particularly large one on the surface, but the Chiss had claimed it was deep, full of the purest fuel on Csilla. When Grey looked down at the cracked surface, she could see a cracked pond of black, ice shards swimming on the surface. The smell here was familiar to anyone who'd ever worked on a fueling station. If the pompous Rae Sloane's team worked efficiently, they should obtain everything their ship needed while teams like Grey's covered their asses. All assuming they could get the pump to work, naturally.

Grey turned on the comm in her helmet. "My team has reached position, Lieutenant."

"Good work, Corporal." Kalvnik's response was immediate. "Any trouble en route?"

"Nothing we couldn't torch to death. No casualties, no injured."

"Good work. Remain in place and guard your area. Do not move unless instructed." With nothing left to say, Kalvnik ended their call. Grey scanned their surroundings for the seventh time, a sense of boredom setting in.

Across the way, Grey was able to pick up movement on her scanners. When she zoomed in on the visual, however, she realized it was just another team. Had her squad really been the first to reach their target area? If so…

Grey shifted on her feet, fighting off a sense of smugness. She shouldn't act like this. For all Grey knew, the others had encountered for more corpses than her team. They might have even been ambushed in a steep spot, forced to duck their foes as they burned in midair. In fact, she'd been lucky to receive such flat terrain to traverse.

With time, the ring around the oil well started to take shape. A few teams had two flame-soldiers instead of three, but other than that, no major casualties that Grey could spot. She turned her gaze to the sky, watching as eighteen ships lowered through the clouds. The Chiss formed a wide triangle around the target area, rear lights flashing in regular intervals. Around them, and outer ring of TIEs, one for each team on the ground. A simple formation, but quite effective.

Grey tuned back into the comm channel to listen once more. This time, Vice Admiral (formerly Commodore) Canady was addressing the troops. "Grand Admiral, the first phase of our plan has proceeded exactly as intended. Your team may begin descent."

"Thank you, Vice Admiral. Extraction shall begin shortly." And with that terse reply, the line went dead once more. Grey turned her eyes skyward once more to watch what came next.

Transport ships (including the one Grey had rode to the _Eclipse_ in) fell from the sky, descending inside the zone designated by the Chiss. Landing within perimeter on the side of the rig, the troopers on board wasted no time unboarding. The soldiers' movements were hampered somewhat by large barrels. Each individual carried at least one to a nearby pump station, then called the Chiss above for directions on how to get the well working.

While they were doing that, Gordon grabbed Grey's arm. He shook it, seeking Grey's attention. "Hey, Corporal. Something's wrong."

"What is it, trooper?"

"The pool. It's… moving."

Moving? There was no wind in the area, and the well hadn't started pumping yet. Nothing in the fuel should be moving.

Grey whipped her head around, eyes growing wide beneath her helmet.

On the shore. Barely five feet away from where Grey and Gordon were standing watch. Was that… a hand? Clawing out of the oil field?

Attached to that hand was an arm. To that arm, a decaying body. A decaying body, covered in a flammable substance.

And it wasn't alone.

* * *

 **A/N's: Sorry to split the battle in two, folks. I made this move for two reasons: 1) I don't like when chapters get super long, and 2) I still have to figure out a few details about the battle's conclusion. After that chapter and a concluding one, this arc will be finished. I have two options for arc number two that occur (more or less) simultaneously, so it doesn't matter which one gets written first. I figured I would let reviewers pick when I reveal the options two chapters from now. Assuming readers aren't shy, I suppose.**

 **Regardless, I'll work on getting part two of this battle uploaded ASAP. Until then, I hope you enjoyed the chapter, don't forget to leave your thoughts below, and I'll see you on the far side!**


	8. The Battle of Csilla, Part 2

Chapter Eight

The Battle of Csilla, Part 2

Grey felt her heartbeat pounding in her ears. Its quickening tempo transformed into a hum, drowning out all outside noise. She hoped to the stars no one could see her shaking, but she was sure they would if they looked.

When was the last time she'd been so scared in battle? The corporal couldn't remember. Those terrorist Twi'leks on Ryloth had pulled some nasty tricks while she was stationed on their planet, but at least they could only fight while alive. At least they couldn't turn her comrades against her with a single touch. At least they needed air to breathe.

"What do we do?! We can't light them up like this!" Gordon wasn't handling the situation any better than Grey. "It would destroy everything."

Even as he shouted, more corpses were crawling out of the pit. Dozens upon dozens emerged from every side, forcing fuel collectors to retreat and the protective ring to break. Their forces would be driven into a retreat if they didn't come up with a plan.

Grey did the only thing that would come to her mind in the midst of all the terror. She commed her commander. "Lieutenant, we have a problem."

"I'm aware of it, Corporal. The Vice Admiral is working on a new strategy as we speak."

"What should we do until he has one?" Grey jumped back from the swing of a lone foe, Gordon squeaking in fear behind her. He fired a few blaster shots at the corpse's head, but that only seemed to annoy it. None of the shots hit. "We can't fight back without compromising our objective."

"I know, I know," Kalvnik replied through his teeth. "Hold your position best you can. Protect living beings over resources. I will give further orders when I know what they are.

"And Grey?"

"Yes, Kalvnik?"

"Keep our squad safe. We've been through worse. I'm not losing men to this frozen cesspool of a rock."

* * *

"Come on, Cana- Vice Admiral. Our troops are in disarray out there. The Grand Admiral is herding her collectors back to their ships. We have to deal with this on our own."

"I see that, Lieutenant." Of all the ways Canady had predicted this mission might go sideways, enemy soldiers crawling their way out of an oil field hadn't been on the list. In his defense, he was used to enemies that needed to breathe in order to continue fighting. Enemies that would have died from their dive into a fuel pit. Forgive him for his lack of foresight when it came to armies of undead legions.

"What will your men do, Vice Admiral? Our fuel collectors aren't equipped to handle this challenge! If we evacuate, we won't have gained anything from this battle." A trooper pilot called in from one of the grand admiral's ships. "If the enemy attacks now, we will lose men."

"'Covered in fuel, we cannot throw flame. The resulting fire will not be put out so simply.'" Such was the translated reply of Ari'nitan'colgrana, who had been on the comm channel this whole time. "'We must lure the enemy away from your rigworkers.'"

Kalvnik paled. Even in the holo-projection, it was obvious he'd found himself at a loss.

For a second, Canady felt the same way. Then he recovered his senses. "If we can get runners from the perimeter to distract them, they might be able to get far enough away to not endanger anyone else. If the runners themselves stay far enough away, a TIE could shoot the enemy down. The oil on the enemy will catch flame. That should stop the foe."

"But Vice Admiral. That assumes a lot, don't you think?" A member of the makeshift bridge crew piped up. "How do we know the enemy will be lured away?"

"'Mnggal-Mnggal does not interest itself in fuel. It wants to feed. Mnggal-Mnggal only took the rig because Chiss kept going to the area in desire of it. Often we have seen it chase after prey.'"

"So it could work…." Kalvnik trailed off, though his face suggested he had more to say. "That still leaves a lot of fires burning. We can't just let an oil fire continue to burn on a frozen plain somewhere. It could turn back on the rig."

"That is where our runner comes back into play. Once the TIE has made their shot, the runner checks to ensure the foe is finished before cutting off oxygen to the fire." Canady left out the fact that this plan assumed the runner was not burned by the fire itself in this maneuver. His previous plan had been tailored to avoid casualties, and he didn't like the fact that he could potentially lose forces when the number of human lives were already so few. Reserves were far from guaranteed out here.

Something about his face must have betrayed that fact. Before Canady could refocus his attention, Kalvnik replied with: "these runners will have a dangerous job. Our protective ring will be broken."

Canady looked at the live footage from the battle. "It's already useless. The original strategy was designed to keep the enemy out of the well. Reality starts with the enemy inside."

"True. I will inform our ground troops of their new orders."

"And I will speak with the TIEs. The grand admiral may resume her task soon." Canady turned away, the knot in his stomach returning from before. Complications during battle weren't new, but rarely were they handled with ease.

As for the fighters, the pilots were professional enough not to react when they were told they may well end up shooting their own troops in an effort to exterminate the enemy. Despite the cold detachment with which they replied, Canady could still sense trepidation behind their affirmations. They realized as well as he did what this battle could cost him.

Out here, the only replacement for dead soldiers were the remnants of an unfamiliar alien race. The chances of Canady accepting them into the fold would depend on their performance today.

Or the Empire's lack of one.

* * *

Not that anyone had asked him, but Nick Dunn thought this new plan was ridiculous.

It wasn't as though he needed motivation to run away from an undead army of aliens. No, that had been the first thing he considered among watching them emerge from their pit. Rather, it was the knowledge that his pursuer would be shot at by a TIE fighter once the two of them were a safe distance away from the rig. The plan assumed he would (and could) run close enough to his foe to keep the target pursuing him, but far enough away that he wouldn't be caught in the fuel explosion that followed. But then, he had to again get close enough to the fire to completely cut off its source of oxygen using… snow, he guessed. Seriously, what else was out here?

The way Dunn saw it, he would have equal success shooting his target with a flamethrower and accepting the burn risk as he would predicting the incoming shot of a TIE fighter without looking. Except he'd handed his flamethrower over to Gordon when he'd taken it upon himself to run from the enemy. If Gordon stumbled in his attempt, it would be the kid's last line of defense.

The cold air stung his lungs as he heaved it in. Steam burned his ears from behind as the screeching laser of a TIE touched down. Dunn saw the light of the explosion reflected on snow before he turned his head himself.

His armor protected him from most of the heat. It wasn't specialized for the task, but it was better than whatever his foe had been wearing. Dunn watched with morbid fascination as the corpse fell apart in its pyre, plied on by oil its body had collected in its dive.

Behind it stood another drenched and blackening body, caught on fire from the front. The flames spread fast and burned bright, but they didn't travel far from the cooking flesh. Smoke fought with steam as the air swirled with a pulsing heat. Water condensed over his visor, scrubbing clarity from his sight.

His helmet might have filtered the air he breathed, but it didn't do anything to cool it. His lungs now seethed for an entirely different reason than they had a second ago.

All around Dunn burned the blurry fires of doomsday. The heat and intensity melted the ground around it as more and more of the plains were exposed. Nothing but dirt and gravel hid beneath the white mantle.

Just as Dunn was panting and marveling at the scene before him, he heard a tearing scream off to his right. There ran Kevin Gordon, the kid barely old enough to have graduated the academy when his first assignment on Ryloth fell apart. Behind him were three pursuers in hulking, nightmarish stride.

He was too close. Gordon was going to be too close to avoid the inevitable shot when it-

"Kevin!" Dunn could only watch as the same TIE who'd assisted him shot into the group of four. Gordon had done his best to jump out of the way, to no avail. Bits of oil and disease landed on his armor as the fire burned its way under the plastoid plates. Bits of his skin were exposed and red at the fingertips.

"Nick! Help me," Gordon tried to stand, wincing as he did. He was on fire. His legs, his fingers… the liquid slid down his chest plate and fell onto the uncovered areas, making a hissing noise as it did.

Dunn glanced around to check for enemies. He saw the Chiss navigator who'd accompanied them to the well, but no foes. He raced over to help his injured comrade, pulling him away from the other fires.

"Calm down. We'll put this fire out. You're going to be okay." Dunn threw snow over the burning areas before remembering the oil part of the problem. Removing pieces of Gordon's armor, he submerged the kid's burning leg in a drift, covering the area to the best of his ability. Soon the fire was dying down, leaving puckered burns and scrapes in its wake.

When Dunn lifted the chest plate back up, he noticed bits of black were surrounding the burnt leg. That was odd. He didn't think Gordon would have sustained third degree burns from that minor of an encounter. His body suit had taken the worst of it.

"Dunn, my leg. It feels… weird."

"Of course it feels strange. You just burned it. Does it hurt, or are you numb?"

"It hurts, yeah, but… I'm not numb down there. It feels kinda itchy."

Itchy? That wasn't a burn symptom Dunn was familiar with. He would have to get Gordon checked out by a medic once they were back on the ship. "Keep the area cold. Hold onto this flamethrower and defend yourself with the hand you didn't burn."

"I will. I promise. You'll come back for me, right?"

"Of course," Dunn assured the man. He took one last look at Gordon's injured leg. Was it just him, or did the skin look blacker than it had a second ago? Gordon said he still had feeling in the leg, so the burn couldn't have been that extensive. Perhaps that was best left up to a medic to decide, however. Dunn was about to take his leave when he saw the Chiss approach them once more. Yet another fire was burning behind the alien's silhouette, highlighting the less human aspects of his features.

There was no translator droid with them now. Dunn had no hope of understanding when the Chiss spit angry syllables at him and Gordon. Was he telling them to get up? Get further away from the burning corpses?

"I don't know what you want." Dunn tried to shove the blue man away, to no avail. The Chiss took one look at Gordon's leg, and his red eyes flared. He took a few steps back, then lunged for Gordon's weapon.

Was that what this was about? Did the Chiss need a weapon to defend himself and didn't think an injured man needed it as badly? Was he planning to take up Gordon's defense?

"Do you need me to show you how to use that? I can teach you the best way to- woah, watch it." Dunn leapt out of the way as the Chiss male turned the device on. The alien uttered one more incomprehensible phrase before pointing the flamethrower at Gordon.

"What is he doing? I'm not that badly injured! I don't need to be p-"

Fire escaped the nozzle. Hungry orange beasts raced to reunite with Gordon's flesh. Once again, Gordon screamed.

Dunn tried to push the Chiss away. He threw all his weight into the navigator's side, knocking them both over into a heap of burnt ash. Had Dunn been paying attention in that moment, he would have realized the danger of falling so close to a still raging fire just over their left shoulder.

But Dunn wasn't paying attention. In his mind, all he could hear were Gordon's pleading screams. The Chiss spat at him, but Dunn's eyes were locked on the boy he'd once served with, watching as the fire caught onto different bits of Gordon's body suit.

Dunn rushed to put the fire out again, but the Chiss stopped him. The alien's speech took on a pleading tone as he held Dunn back.

Gordon was dying. Dunn made the choice, then and there, to shoot the young trooper in the heart. Better to end his misery than continue such twisted suffering.

Dunn still couldn't understand the Chiss's words. What could he have to say for himself? Yes, death was always a risk in battle, but why like this? In the current set of circumstances, what benefit could sacrificing Gordon serve?

A weak breeze drifted along the battlefield, mixing its disparate scents together. Cooking meat, burning oil, the twinging wetness of evaporated snow. Buried within was the sweet decay of a fearsome disease, one that could make any body its prisoner.

The gory details, Dunn remembered. The preemptive strike, Dunn understood. The proactive Chiss, Dunn did not forgive.

Still, the battle seemed to rage calmer from that point on. In the distance, Dunn could even see the grand admiral's ships lowering again. Pray to the stars their foe had no third wave waiting in the wings.

From that point on, Dunn set to work quenching the fires' thirst. It wasn't an easy task. Some fires had managed to spread quite far. The boiling of the area had put up clouds of fog, adding an air of mystery to the once clear day. Most bonfires had reduced their sources to unrecognizable ashes and bone, but he was able to uncover Imperial armor here and there. Not every remaining Chiss limb looked partially decomposed, either. But no matter what the state of the corpse had been before its burning, each and every one had been met with the same fate.

Incomplete cremation.

* * *

"Was it worth it, Grand Admiral? Did those lives we sacrificed in this foreign war get us the fuel we deserved?"

"This war is foreign to us no longer, Captain. If we are to stay in the Unknown Regions, we are destined to make this conflict our own. If we want to bring order and peace to this side of the galaxy, we are going to have to fight any enemy that stands in that mission's way. Even peculiar diseases." Sloane addressed the second question first, then doubled back. "In terms of our short term objective, yes. My forces succeeded in collecting the necessary fuel for our mission. Because the Chiss have not gone through hyperspace in so long, our new allies have even promised us their reserves of that as well… once a certain situation is remedied."

Canady had not been there for the discussion, but he was confident he knew the incident to which Sloane was referring. "You want us to help our new allies overthrow their government? Have our troops not fought enough skirmishes on this planet for today?"

"I assure you, Vice Admiral, there will be no fight. The Chiss people respect honor, but more importantly, they respect might. With our victory today, we have proven to Csilla that the Empire has more power than their crumbling Aristocra. Through our comrades in battle today, we shall renew their fight for their homes. In return, they shall be in our debt. I have been promised not only fuel, but navigators and translators. Hard workers who will learn our language and assimilate to our ways."

"And you intend to accept them? As equals?"

"They fought as our equals in the battle just now. Did they not, Lieutenant?"

Kalvnik turned his head towards the grand admiral. His helmet hid his face from view, though his voice certainly carried a strained quality. "Yes. Their assistance was vital. I would be willing to fight alongside them again once our communication barrier is resolved."

There were still a few grumbles on the bridge, but the military success of the day kept them quiet for now. Those who opposed Sloane's leadership would wait for her to fail before they dared stir up disorder once more.

Their loss, really. Sloane was about to double her subject population aboard the _Eclipse_. This time tomorrow, her new Empire would have the complete cooperation of their first planet.

* * *

 **A/N's: And so we reach a conclusion to my first ever battle scene. Hope it didn't completely suck, even if it was a bit smaller than most SW battles.**

 **You know who writes really good space battles? Timothy Zahn. I read _Thrawn: Treason_ last week, and let me tell you. That was the most entertaining side quest I have ever been on in an expanded universe. I thought it was going to have details that rendered my fic impossible, but all I have to do is handwave a few Chiss name abbreviations, and I stay canon compliant. **

**As I mentioned before, this arc ends next chapter. I will try to get that out before I enter my first year of college in a few weeks, but in case I take another two months to update, I'll leave you readers something to consider. My choices for the second arc in this story are as follows. I will let readers help me make this decision, and announce which one I am going with when the next chapter is posted. I will eventually write both arcs regardless of which one is voted to go first. Readers, your choices are:**

 **1) Brendol, Armitage, and their kid troopers get into hijinks while aboard the _Eclipse_**

 **2) A Chiss/Imperial team travel to another planet to meet Snoke and investigate the origins of Mnggal-Mnggal**

 **Let me know what you think in a review, thanks for reading, and I'll see you on the far side!**


	9. Fall of the Aristocra

Chapter Nine

Fall of the Aristocra

Ari'nitan'colgrana knew what she needed to do. She was aware of the promises she'd made to Ra'slone and the conviction with which she'd roused the Chiss forces before battle. Now that they'd won, the time had come to confront the Aristocra.

The time had come to betray her father.

She could not hesitate now. Not as she marched in tandem with the Empire leader herself and thirty soldiers of each species trailing them on both sides. If Arin was to assert dominance over the new order, she could not show a single weakness. Everything about this meeting had to be perfect.

The gleam of the Great General's pin reflected the rays of their morning star. Anyone who looked directly at Arin's lapel would be blinded by the sight. Her navy hair and silver cape flew free behind her in the stinging wind, slapping the humans' translation machine often. By all rights, she was the spitting image of power. But in Ascendancy gray next to Ra'slone's white, her burning nerves next to the human's cool confidence, Arin felt like a pretender. A young girl dressed in her mother's clothes while feigning an impression of adulthood.

Upon hearing of the battle, the Aristocra had not cared that the combined forces won. Rather, they cared that the battle had been unauthorized. The council had demanded all Chiss participants gather before them to face trial. Arin, using Kenitt as a messenger, had agreed to their terms on the condition she brought a few friends in with her. It was the first time she'd signed her true name to the usurpers' cause, though she was no stranger.

"We are here, Ra'slone. The Aristocra is meeting inside this hall. They wish to punish their soldiers who participated in our battle."

Arin waited for the machine to convert her words. When Ra'slone said something back, she listened with interest. "'When we are done here, the soldiers will be not of the Aristocra, but of yours. You brought our peoples together. You commanded these troops in Csilla's first victory. You deserve leadership more than any fool inside.'"

"Thank you for your support, Ra'slone. With your Empire's help, power shall belong to those willing to fight for our lives."

The older woman nodded, an alien glint to her eye. Inhaling one last time, Arin threw the doors open and led the charge into the seat of Chiss power. Only the council sat inside at this hour, and each member went silent as dozens and dozens of armed soldiers fanned out into the chamber. They formed a protective ring around Arin and Ra'slone with near flawless coordination. The generals of the Aristocra rose in protest, eyes alight with anger and alarm.

Arin fixed her gaze on the council chair, doing her utmost to ignore the man standing to his immediate right. "These are not all the soldiers you wished to see, Chairman. More wait outside these halls, eager to hear what the results of our meeting will be."

The Chairman narrowed his eyes. "Little Nitan. Your words of defiance shocked the Aristocra. Mere days ago, you sat among us at your father's side. Ari'ncoltan'colgrana faced questioning last night when we received your reply. Tell me: what new trick is this? Is this your new way of seeking our attention? You wear the clothes of our former leaders to mock us into taking reckless action?"

Arin flinched in annoyance at the machine's constand translations occurring behind her. She had to keep her head in the moment. "I do nothing of the sort. I fight for Csilla with those who still know what it means to be Chiss. I brought them the allies you rejected and took our first step toward ridding the planet of enemies. I come before you as a courtesy. Comply with the new order or face the consequences."

"You dare threaten the Aristocra? You address yourself by our family name as if you were a member of this council, but you are really a spoiled child, and that is my fault. Nitan, you know naught of what is out there in the galaxy. You think one small battle is all it takes to wear the clothes of a general? Don't be so vain." Her father berated her. "You cannot take action in the name of all Chiss. The Aristocra swore never again to name a Great General from among their members, and you are not a member."

Arin knew all this, of course. Her family had earned a permanent seat on the council centuries ago. Before her father sat where he did now, the position had belonged to Arin's mother, Csilla's last Great General. She'd been tasked with the containment of Mnggal-Mnggal's threat only to die several years ago in an attempt to do just that. Since her failure, the council had been at a permanent loss for what to do, each new idea attempted with only a halfhearted demeanor.

That is, until the Empire showed up. Arin had worked with the faction seeking to subvert the Aristocra before, but only upon witnessing the Aristocra's spurning of allies had she taken them seriously. With these humans at her side, Arin had the chance to not only free Csilla of its disease and lethargy, but to claim the power she'd fantasized so much about as a girl.

Her mother had worn the pin of a Great General. Arin was destined to do the same. There was only one thing left standing in her way.

She really had to sell this one. Not just for the council or her soldiers, but for herself as well. "I do not don these clothes by choice. For both me and you, Father, this uniform holds painful memories. But now that the Chiss people know how to fight Mnggal Mnggal, it is imperative that we must. The Aristocra refused to be a part of that fight when it spurned the Empire as our allies. I stepped in only when I saw this body fail, knowing that our people deserve better. My loyalty to fellow Chiss and belief in our order is dear to me, but so too is our future. I cannot allow the Aristocra's feeble thinking to lead us into extinction.

"The Chiss who fought in our battle yesterday have agreed they answer to me. The Empire supports my ascension to Great General and will assist us as we eradicate this sickness from our world. Step aside, Father. Allow me to take your place on the Aristocra council so that the title may be properly bestowed. I feel far too much respect for this body to simply name myself."

Coltan's eyes flashed, enraged by his daughter's demands of him. The chair of the council shook his head, though the rest of the council finally seemed to be coming to a realization about why so many armed soldiers were in the room with them. "Your fantasies have gone to your head, Nitan. I am the only Arin with a right to use our name in this way. You will not take my place until the day that I am dead."

Arin feared this would happen. In the moment, she felt a sense of dread. Her father had done the best he could with her. Before her mother's death, she'd respected him as a pillar of strength and a source of wisdom. After the death, he had become understandably depressed, frustrated with his inability to fulfill his mate's legacy. Until recently, Arin's sympathy for him had put limits on her ambition.

No longer.

"I foresaw things would end this way. This is your own fault, Ari'ncoltan'colgrana." Arin reached for the part of the belt her cape worked to obscure, the two Chiss soldiers closest to her ready to contain any resulting damage to the building.

"Don't speak to your elders that way, you impotent-"

Arin leapt forward with a weapon in each hand. First she shot her father straight in the heart with a Chiss blaster, then she burned his corpse with a human flamethrower. She watched with cruel fascination as his clothing and skin caught first, quickly giving way to the flesh underneath.

The chairman scampered away from the blaze. Several Aristocra members screamed in anger at the sight. Some called for guards, but no one came. Where the Aristocra had been furious, the remnants of the Ascendancy had been impressed. Not everyone was on board with the new order, of course, but they understood it was better than waiting around for double death, and Arin's initial success was enough to convince the guards to wait somewhere other than the wings for this morning's meeting.

As the flames on Coltan's body spilled over onto wood, Arin's and Ra'slone's two front soldiers sprung into action. The pair doused the fire in a matter of seconds, leaving the charred corpse in the middle of the chamber for everyone to see. Behind them, fourteen Chiss guns were pointed outwards accompanied by fourteen flamethrowers. The threat was clear.

Arin waited for a hushed silence to fall over the older Chiss, holding her two weapons up by her shoulders and working furiously to contain her shaking. "The day of my father's death has come. A disease related to Mnggal-Mnggal, he was afflicted with indecision and misery which left him unable to fight for our people. Now that he is no longer chained to a mortal life of pain, he may join my mother in the heaven of those who've truly left us for safer skies.

"Since he is gone and I am here, I will take his place on the Aristocra council. I bring a renewed Ascendancy on the heels of our first victory to the table along with the backing of allies who have proven crucial. Due to the unique nature of the situation and the severity of Mnggal-Mnggal's threat, I request the council name me Great General so that I may forgo some peacetime procedures in our time of need."

"'It is true. The humans of the Empire have agreed to stand with our wartime friend and the forces who've supported behind her. We will give flametossing aid to no other candidate.'" Ra'slone promised, just as she'd said she would. It was a great return to the investment of allowing her humans to use the liberated fuel reserve at will and recruit among the Chiss for future joint operations.

The chairman walked slowly back towards Arin. Disgusted, he handed her his gavel and nodded towards the pin on her chest. His next words were spoken quickly at a volume barely above a whisper. "You are a heartless traitor and fool, little Nitan. I will lie in wait for the day this Empire betrays you. Your power is an illusion, albeit a helpful one. In our times of desperation, it seems our people will accept even you as a symbol of their hope. Even if you can prevent our extinction, will you prevent our enslavement?" He stepped back. In a louder and slower voice, he said, "I cede my power to you. May Great General Arin lead us back to our former greatness."

"Lead us back to glory, Great General." The elders of the council echoed, faces pale from the threat of execution.

This was how things had to be. Arin had wanted power, and now she had it. She had the knowledge of how to drive Mnggal-Mnggal from her planet and the means to do so. With the ability to drive the disease back, life could go back to how it was for the Chiss. They could grow food and have children again. No longer would they force the less privileged to survive on scraps. No longer would their emergency reserves made for harsh winters and crop failure be looted and empty.

No longer.

Just as Arin's thoughts turned to what else was no longer with her, she felt a reassuring touch on her shoulder. The gesture was from Ra'slone. "'Congratulations, ally. I look forward to our more fighting together.'" She handed the younger female a small communication device. "'We will install far range communing on your planet so that you may always speak with me.'"

Arin turned her mind away from the smell of burn in the air, putting her still-hot flamethrower away to accept the device. "Thank you, Empire leader. We will keep our promises to each other."

Change happened quickly after that morning. If Chiss were not eager about the change in leadership, at least they were too tired and resigned to fight it. No one dared mention how Arin had wrested power from the Aristocra, mostly because they couldn't believe it.

Many more Chiss soldiers and families than Arin expected (including Kenitt, who'd been freed from custody after the Aristocra meeting by Arin's order) agreed to follow the humans away from Csilla and to bring their belongings with them, but the majority refused to budge. Like her, they wanted to reclaim Csilla and remained suspicious of extraterrestrial conquest.

It was an odd day, organizing a new order on Csilla. Everywhere Arin went, Ra'slone accompanied her to the point Arin was starting to connect human words to their Cheunh counterpart. Giving the same speech over and over had that effect.

It was sunset when Ra'slone was about to leave. Arin still had one last thing to offer her. One last secret her father had divulged to her in complete confidence with the belief Arin would never compromise its safety. But Arin had promised this Empire a navigator. They had delivered their ends of the bargain and would not appreciate if Arin did not honor hers.

Kenitt would have to watch over the child from now on.

* * *

Rae Sloane was delighted with how well this day had gone for her cause. She thought she'd received every boon the newly hopeful Chiss had to offer until Arin led her, Kenitt, and AP-9 alone into a dark corridor of the Aristocra's building. She entered an elaborate pattern into a complex lock on the door, opening the door to reveal… a small girl?

"Who is this child?"

Something must have gone wrong with the translation in the reply that followed. "'A Chiss navigator, as was promised. She is the last of the Skywalkers, only recently discovered to have the third sight. She will guide you through this region of the galaxy for several years to come.'"

A child would lead them through the galaxy? What sort of fresh madness was this? "What is this third sight you speak of?"

"'A connection to the greater picture of life in our universe. I do not understand it myself, but her powers are innate from birth. They give her the ability to…'" AP-9 trailed off in the explanation. "Why, Grand Admiral! I think this Chiss is describing the Force."

Well. That explained the lack of a nav computer in all the Chiss craft that had been transported to the Eclipse. And here she just thought they'd all been scrapped. Sloane didn't understand how the Force could guide a craft through the galaxy, but she also didn't understand how Vader used to be able to choke people through a holo projection.

"And you're offering this child to the Empire?" No one left in the Empire would take well to a Force sensitive alien child. Already, Sloane knew that. If she were to use this child's talents, it would have to be in complete secret.

In that moment, Kenitt finally recovered enough from shock to speak. "'You want me to watch over this Skywalker, Arin?'"

As for the girl, she'd been eyeing Sloane with fascination since the minute the admiral walked in. "'You're not Chiss. What are you?'"

Arin took the girl (hardly more than a toddler) by the hand to explain the situation. By the time she reached the end, Arin said, "'you're finally going to serve the Ascendancy by joining our human friends on their ship. Remember those visions you had that marked you special?'"

"'Yes.'"

The new Chiss leader took a tome from the shelf behind her and handed it over to Kenitt. "'You will use your power to take this human wherever she wants to go. The knowledge in this text will teach you what your ancestors cannot. While you are there, your people will protect you from any harm.'"

Kid looked like she was about to cry. "'I can't stay with you and Arin anymore? Nitan!'"

"'No, Rah'na. You can't. I promised these humans. But you'll still be with Chiss. See, this is Krav'kenitt'itaawn.'"

Rah'na started to bawl. "Nitan!"

"'Your third sight gives you great responsibility, Rah'na. You must do your duty to the Ascendancy and travel with Kenitt here.'"

"Kenitt, you will call this child your daughter when we are on board my ship. I am the only one you can tell of this girl or her powers," Sloane stated, dubious of how she would use this gift. After much more pleading, the group of four finally led the small Chiss out of her holding cell.

This act of naive sincerity on Arin's part was the final touch for Sloane. Arin was a good woman from what Sloane could tell. She would have made a great leader with more experience. But desperation had pushed her into a hasty, reckless alliance, one which Sloane intended to milk all that she could out of. So long as Arin showed no ambition for conquering outside Csilla and let Sloane command the Chiss on board the Eclipse, the two would get on just fine.

But if those conditions changed, Sloane would remind her vassal of how quickly she'd come to power… and how quickly it could be taken away.

* * *

 **A/N's: I know it's been a while since I updated, and yes, I wrote most this chapter tonight. But I wanted to make sure I closed this arc out on a good note, and to do that, I had to invent some more details re: Arin's backstory and Chiss politics.**

 **The reason Arin goes by Arin (her family name) instead of Nitan (which others call her, and would follow the Chiss naming conventions outlined in the Thrawn books) is because to go by her family name has connotations of power, such as membership to the Aristocra. Upon joining the Chiss rebels (not fully until recently), she used the name as a reminder of her status and a way to claim she could give the movement legitimacy. Due to her role as the** **Doña** **Marina of Csilla, she gains the trust of Rae Sloane, who agrees to help her take over post-battle because the Empire gets way more out the deal than the Chiss do.**

 **As for the bit about the Great General, I decided the Aristocra would be similar to the Roman Senate in that they declared temporary dictators in times of crisis. By taking her seat on the council with patricide (a common practice in the First Order), she can enjoy dictator status as she rallies Csilla behind her to burn Mnggal-Mnggal off the planet. Which they do, though I may never come back to Csilla directly.**

 **Next up, as voted by AO3 people, is hijinks with the Hux family. Kid stormtroopers are all kinds of wonderful, aren't they?**

 **Hope you enjoyed the arc, thanks for reading, leave your thoughts below, and I will see you on the far side!**


	10. Lab Contamination

Chapter Ten

Lab Contamination

Josef Sieve hated his current job. Banning idleness on the _Eclipse_ was one thing. But tearing Sieve away from the important task of studying Mnggal-Mnggal for its structure, behavior, and potential impact on humans? Refusing to collect even the smallest of live samples for him to study due to the "outsized risk" of such an exploit? All so he commit his aging body to the grueling labor of basic fuel refinement? It was ridiculous!

"Keep working, you lazy civilians!" the stormtrooper guarding them barked from his relative comfort by the door. "The sooner this fuel is fit for burning, the sooner we can keep moving."

Moving to where? Far as Sieve was concerned, the _Eclipse_ was perfectly fine stationed above Csilla for another few days. It gave their alien friends an easier time getting settled on board, a great chance to restock on shared supplies, and ample time for the medics and their droids to check for signs of disease. Besides, what was the rush? Did the people in charge even know where they wanted to go next yet? No doubt they would be relying on Chiss intelligence to make that decision.

And why the refusal to land the _Eclipse_ on the Csillan surface? In-orbit refueling was far more difficult, especially without a station to latch onto. Wasn't the whole point of an Aristocra regime change that the two groups would get along better from now on?

Sieve frowned at his memories of _that_ meeting, of being talked over by a bunch of arrogant aliens who believed the galaxy would never progress beyond them. Progress belonged to those who pursued it, not those who sat around all day arguing amongst themselves. It was the reason a single emperor was, by nature, more progressive than a bickering bridge crew or fickle senate. Of course, it was difficult to make groundbreaking discoveries when one was forced to labor in a full hazmat suit on the well-understood chemical processes of getting crude oil ship-ready. Sieve was so bored by the task that his mind latched onto anything it could to distract him.

Sieve winced at the ache of his joints as he drew back up from his crouch. He and the rest of his assembly line were almost done with this batch. They would be relieved of their shift soon.

He gazed down into the swirling black void. Even in the suit, the smell of fuel was unbearable. It reminded him of days his uncle would visit. Ever the less fortunate of the family, that man had worked as a grease monkey at the same shipyard Sieve's dad owned… or, more likely, used to own. Most of their contracts had been Imperial, after all, and Sieve hadn't checked on either of them in seven years. Best case scenario: they'd both died of old age before this disgraceful war even started.

Still, his uncle used to have a policy. His own way of discerning if the fuel sent over for the warships was refined properly. Scientifically nonsense, of course, but once the desired vapor condensed and cooled, Sieve's uncle would run a finger through it and-

"Hey, stop that!" The trooper from before ran over to Sieve. The scientist drew his gloved finger back to his body. He hadn't even noticed what he was doing. "Don't you know better than to stick your hand in hot oil?"

"I'm covered head to toe! I had no chance of being harmed," Sieve talked back before his brain caught up with his mouth. Once it did, he apologized. "Sorry, officer. It won't happen again."

"See that it doesn't. We can't afford you getting addle-brained on the job, old man!" The trooper leaned in to give his next warning. "And between you and me, those suits are old. I wouldn't trust them to protect you from enemy goo. Only way to know that stuff is gone is to burn it." He chuckled. "Or toss it out the airlock. Then the planet's atmosphere burns it for us."

"Enemy goo? Wha…" Sieve's eyes lit up when he realized. "You mean… the disease? It's in the fuel?"

"Shhhhhh! Shhh!" The trooper glanced around them, then shook his head. "Dammit. I… wasn't supposed to tell you that. Not supposed to scare any civilians working in here. But… yes. Corpses hid in the fuel pit during our battle. I was there. Their germs could be all over the fuel. Which is why you better refine it properly. All waste is getting sealed and tossed. So be careful."

Sieve was glad the trooper couldn't see him grinning under his mask. "I will, officer. I shall refrain from telling anyone else what you said to me."

"Good. Now get back to work!" The trooper barked that last bit louder than the rest, just in case anyone had been listening. "I don't want to see you slacking off ever again."

There was no need to respond after that. Sieve wasn't even thinking about the conversation anymore. No, he had the seed of an idea planted in his mind. Between the bright light of the refining center and the constant stream of thoughts he was pouring onto it, Sieve had a full-grown plan in his mind for how he could do his _actual_ duty on this stars-forsaken ship.

The refining process itself may have been enough to burn out traces of his precious subject already, so Sieve couldn't steal fuel from his end of the assembly line. He had to get his hands on crude oil before the last of it was processed. With mini-refineries adapted from both human and alien parts running all over the Star Destroyer and nearly eight hundred workers on the project, the Empire intended to convert all the fuel it'd taken aboard as quickly as possible. If Sieve waited beyond today, he would lose his shot.

His chance came at the tail end of the day. Feigning age and a need to rest, Sieve made his way towards the nearest refresher, which just happened to be at the start of the assembly line. The first worker in the line, an aristocratic-looking woman, was practically keeled over from exhaustion and barely keeping up her end of the bargain. She was all too receptive to Sieve's offer to help her for a moment, not even noticing when he siphoned a small bit of crude off into her fallen drinking cup. The scientist sealed the cup completely with what he had available, not willing to risk even the slightest contamination of his prize. Once he stashed his bounty away in a secluded nook of the room, he made his way back to his station as though nothing had transpired. The work was repetitive enough he didn't need his mind to keep up with his hands, so his thoughts shifted into fantasies of the tests he'd run on his little pathogen. Oh, what nasty secrets awaited those who persisted!

Sieve floated away from his station at the end of his shift, whistling to himself as everyone handed off their suits to a replacement worker. He received a few glares for his attitude, but nothing he wasn't used to.

Now that playtime was over, Sieve had real work to do. He had to get his sample properly stored away in his lab before anyone else found out about it. Ignoring the complaints of his body, Sieve rushed off to his lab on the opposite end of the ship. After sealing the door and checking that he was alone, Sieve once again covered his entire body in preparation to secure his sample. He whipped out a clear glass cylinder, a device with all the appearances of a tall petri dish.

Sieve tore the seal off his stolen cup and poured its black contents into the dish. He was screwing the top back on when a banging of fists at the door disrupted his concentration.

Not bothering to remove any of his protective gear, Sieve cursed under his breath, set his sample down in the very center of the table, and ambled over to answer the door. On the other side stood a scowling redhead in uniform with a small child tucked behind his knees.

"Commandant Hux. To what do I owe this… pleasure?"

Hux wasted no time with greetings. "I gave you what you wanted a week ago. I got you down onto the Csillan surface as the only civilian yet to receive clearance. I didn't do that as a gift, remember?"

So that was why there was a child with him. Sieve's face fell. "I will get to our little arrangement, I promise. Please allow me to conclude my current experiment first. Preliminary tests will only take a few-"

Hux blew past the stumbling scientist, ushering his companion to enter with him. He ignored Sieve's protests while doing so. "No, you can't do whatever dumb experiment you want to run yet. I know your schedule. You're not assigned to anything important. You promised me your expertise. I upheld my end of the bargain, and I've waited long enough. I'm not leaving your 'lab'," Hux used the term mockingly, "until you honor yours."

Sieve bristled at the implications of Hux's words. "You didn't uphold your promise in the slightest! I was promised a chance to collect samples of Mnggal-Mnggal from the surface of Csilla itself. During my time on that planet, I received no such chance. Your little talk with the grand admiral amounted to empty appeasement."

"I promised you a ride to the surface. Nothing else. It's not my fault Sloane blocked your mission. Now sit down and do what I asked!"

"You do realize I'm a research biologist with a specialization in microorganisms, correct? I'm not a psychologist, nor am I a family doctor. I fail to see why you would even want me for this particular task."

"Because," Hux lowered his voice, stepping in close to Sieve so they could lock eyes through the scientist's goggles, "you and I are the only ones who really understand each other on this ship. You believe in a constant, continuous effort towards understanding in all disciplines. You don't believe current methods are ever 'good enough' that we ought to stop innovating. While you apply that philosophy to the study of germs and bacteria, I use it in the training of Imperial soldiers. The path to the future lies not in the armor troopers wear nor the weapons they possess. Those were already superior to what the rebels used against us, and the Empire failed regardless. No, the path ahead exists within the soldiers themselves. They shouldn't have come to us at sixteen with instilled biases and connections to family or outside worlds. Overriding those preset conditions was half my job at the academy on Arkanis. The best soldiers are the ones who can be trained to value only the cause they fight for, as they were in the Clone Wars. But while clones are indeed expensive, you can't teach these beliefs to someone who's already developed ideals for themselves. Better to catch free recruits while they're young, so their minds can be trained with their bodies in the best way to serve the Empire.

"My ideas are based on years of personal observation and proven by the data. They're a natural thing to propose for the purpose of improving our military personnel. Yet because of them, I'm treated like a monster. Your labcoated colleagues shun me out of their own queasiness. But not you, Doctor. You believe in progress above all, just like me. That is why I require your help in this matter."

Sieve's brown eyes shone in admiration as the commandant gave his speech. It felt wonderful to have someone on board who understood him. Even before the Empire's collapse, those who shared Sieve's philosophy had been few and far between. Orson Krennic had once. As had Galen Erso, or so he thought. But those two had worked in a discipline distant from his own and died from work-related causes. Here and now, Sieve faced a man from a different walk of life who seemed to have him nailed down perfectly.

"I appreciate that, Commandant. My concern is that my lack of experience in medicine and developmental psychology will ruin your designs for the future. It was nothing to do with an unwillingness to help you."

"Well, don't worry about such things now. I only need you for a basic evaluation tonight. Before beginning any experiment, one needs to examine their subjects. AB-1324, stop your hiding." Hux caught the child by his wrist and practically threw him into Sieve's path. Previously, the kid had been by the table with Sieve's sample on it. "AB-1324, this is Doctor Sieve. He's going to perform a basic checkup on you to make sure you're healthy. I need you to answer all his questions and do whatever the doctor says. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir." AB-1324… that was a soldier serial, wasn't it? Sieve understood their use in combat and computer programs, but there was no reason to avoid real names here. He would ask the boy as soon as his commander left.

"Good. I will be outside with the others. Come to me when you finish."

"Wait, others? How many are we doing-" the door closed before Sieve could finish, "...tonight."

But seriously, how many? Sieve was already exhausted from his shift at the refinery. He had only intended to store his sample away for the night when he'd arrived at the lab. If Hux had seen his schedule, did he also know that Sieve had been awake for sixteen straight hours (and laboring for twelve of them) by this point? Based on Hux's attitude, Sieve assumed not.

Oh well. Best to get this job over with so he could get back to what he really wanted to do. Sieve picked up his sample from the edge of the table, finished screwing its lid on, and stored it away in a temperature controlled cabinet. He removed some of his protective gear at this point. "Come with me, child. Let's get you a place to sit."

The short brunet followed him to a second, smaller room in the lab, this one with only an examination table, a chair, and a deactivated interrogator droid. In case it wasn't obvious, Sieve's lab once had other uses. "Sit on the table for me." The child got up. "What is your name?"

"AB-1324, Doctor."

"No, not your serial. Your name. What did your parents call you?"

AB-1324 shook his head. "The general says we aren't supposed to use those names anymore, Doctor. He only calls me AB-1324. That's my name now."

Hm… perhaps it was part of Hux's grand design in creating the perfect soldier. By removing their names, Hux effectively deprived them of clues to their planet of origin and, more importantly, their cultural heritage. Only the name given to them by the Empire (their serial) stood in its place. Clever.

Was Sieve supposed to assist Hux in coming up with new ways to implement his plan on this sample population? Or was he only here to assess their physical health for the time being? He should have asked. "Very well, AB-1324. What is your age in standard years?"

"Eight, Doctor."

Sieve had guessed as much. Though the boy certainly seemed small for his age. "Were you fed well as a child?"

"The general feeds me good, Doctor."

"What about before Comma… General Hux found you?"

"Oh," AB-1324 slumped over. "I was always hungry before I met the general. I had to take food from shops when grown ups weren't looking."

So the child had a history of malnourishment. His brown hair was bleached light and skin heavily tanned, suggesting long days in the sun and possibly a risk of skin cancer. Sieve should probably be writing this down. He fetched a datapad from the other room and created an entry around AB-1324's serial number. "Have you ever been seriously injured?"

"I… don't know, Doctor."

How did he not know if… wait. Sieve was talking to an eight-year-old. He needed to change the way he asked questions. "Have you ever hurt yourself really badly? Like broke a bone, for example."

"N… no, Doctor. I was hit with a cane for stealing a few times. On my back."

"Did the laceratio- did the cane leave marks on your back? Does your back ever still hurt where you were hit?"

"No, Doctor."

"Remove your shirt and show me." AB-1324 obliged. Once Sieve saw that there were no scars that would indicate a lashing, he told the boy to put the shirt back on.

The rest of the examination proceeded in much the same way. Sieve asked any question he could think of in a way that even a little boy could understand. Once he'd exhausted his list of ideas, Sieve checked all of AB-1324's vitals. Despite his history of abuse and malnourishment, the boy seemed to be quite healthy currently. With the right nutrition, AB-1324 could grow to be big and strong yet. More importantly, AB-1324 confessed he was doing well in Hux's training program and seemed genuinely grateful to his general. Best Sieve could tell, the boy had no reason to be anything but loyal to his master and empire. He even got along with Armitage Hux, Brendol's small runt of a son. Why a six year old was also allowed to run around commanding soldiers, Sieve had no idea.

"Thank you for your cooperation, AB-1324. I will report the results of our time together to your general. Let's walk to the entrance together." When Sieve stood up, he briefly lost his vision as a wave of dizziness hit. Wow he was tired. How was this day not over?

Sieve put his foot down after the third check up. If Hux wanted all his soldiers examined properly, he would have to let Sieve sleep for a shift. He had assigned work tomorrow as well, as did Hux, so they would have to finish this the next time both parties were free.

Sieve was so tired by the time he landed in bed that he completely forgot about what a horrible case of cross contamination he'd allowed to occur in his lab.

* * *

 **A/N's: Welcome to arc number two! Nothing like a mad scientist to start things off. Sieve is probably my favorite character to write for in this fic so far. He's just so insane.**

 **Those on AO3 can already see this from the tags, but for my readers on : this fic is no longer trying to comply with canon. After seeing Rise of Skywalker twice, I have concluded there is no way to reconcile my ideas for this fic with the mess that is that movie. Nor do I want to. I by no means hate the film (there were many threads I enjoyed), but I came into this project wanting (among other things) to give Snoke an interesting backstory and I can't do that if all canon says he is is a (SPOILER) tool created by Palpatine to fuck with Ben Solo. Not to mention, I want the First Order to be developed as worthy adversaries, not sidelined by a completely unnecessary Sith fleet.**

 **I can rant on and on. Point is, this fic is AU now. I will still draw inspiration from canon sources and do my best to fit with TFA and TLJ, but I make no attempt to include anything Exegol related here. Thank you for reading, don't forget to leave your thoughts below, and I'll see you on the far side!**


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